Going Vader
by ReginaSong
Summary: Sam knew he had crossed some kind of line. He knew it but given the choice again, he would do the same damn thing. For Dean, he'd do it a hundred times over. This is my version of what drove Sam to take that first drink of demon blood. Set mid-season 4. Plenty of hurt!Dean and Angsty!Sam. Rated T for swearing and violence.
1. Prologue & Chapter 1

**Summary: ****Sam knew he had crossed some kind of line. He knew it but given the choice again, he would do the same damn thing. For Dean, he'd do it a hundred times over. This is my version of what drove Sam to take that first drink of demon blood. Set mid-season 4. Plenty of hurt!Dean and Angsty!Sam. **

_Hi there! This is a reworked, refurbished version of a season 4 fic I wrote while season 4 was airing. Just a quick prologue here to set the plot up then we jump forward to present time (season 4). This is a cannon-based multi-chap set up like a real episode with a full myth-arc plotline/hunt._

**Author's Note: **_This is cannon-based (set between 'Criss Angel is a Douche Bag' and 'After-School Special') so there are major spoilers for season 4. It is actually a sequel to my other story 'Stones Unturned' but you can probably get by without reading that one if you really wanted to skip it because Sam and Dean and their situation is all cannon (though of course it would be better to read the other one first, just not necessary). There are OC's in this one that were introduced in the first one but their backstory will be explained here as needed. This story is still mainly about Sam and Dean even though it has Bobby, Cas, Ruby, Pamela and an OC. Hope you enjoy!_

**Prologue **

_63 BC, Mesopotamia_

Lucan stood on the crest of the hill looking down on the encampment, watching his soldiers scurrying around, tearing down tents and packing wagons. He found it amusing how they seemed to break camp considerably faster when the orders were to return to Rome with no expectations of battle in their path.

This war with Parthia had taken a toll on his legion in particular as they were renowned for their gruesome battle charge and hence often placed in the front wave. There were eighteen wagons alone to carry out the wounded, many of whom were not expected to survive the long trip home.

_Home!_ Lucan smiled at the thought of his humble quarters in the midst of his beloved city of Rome. Of his cheery wife, her hearty stew, and her warm bed. Home would be a welcome change from the tired army rations and cold nights he had been living with for almost two years now.

He turned to head back down towards camp. He had no doubts the legion commander would be looking for him by now, his patience at Lucan's frequent wanderings having grown somewhat thin these past few months. He stopped short when he noticed a stranger in his path, standing still and staring at him with a rather blank expression.

Upon closer inspection, Lucan realized the man was actually not much more than a boy and he was not wearing a soldier's tunic or armour. It must be a lad from one of the local villages, though the young man's soft and almost feminine features did not support that assumption.

"Who are you?" he demanded with the tone of authority he usually reserved for his men.

"I am Castiel," the young man said. His voice was surprisingly smooth and he spoke fluently in Lucan's own tongue with no hint of intimidation or fear. "I am an Angel of the Lord."

Lucan's eyes grew wide and he gasped before catching himself. He silently cursed his startled reaction and narrowed his eyes at the stranger. "What village are you from, boy?" he demanded, realizing he was simply being disrespected by a local farmer. _Why would an Angel of God be talking to him?_

"I am indeed who I say I am, Lucan. I assure you, you need not be afraid."

He couldn't be sure, but Lucan thought he saw a hint of shadow behind the boy, forming briefly in the shape of giant feathered wings and found himself believing the mysterious stranger's claim. Somehow he simply knew it to be the truth. "Am I dead then?" he asked meekly. He was a very devout man and did not fear death but had rather hoped to see his wife once more before leaving this world.

"No. I was sent here to bestow a great responsibility upon you."

"Sent? By…." Lucan left the sentence hanging.

"By God. I have an important task for you. The Parthian forces are in possession of a medallion. This medallion must not reach the hands of Tigranes, their King, as he will undoubtedly pass it on to enemies of The Lord, those who serve Lucifer." Castiel spoke evenly and without emotion, as if he was simply recounting the legion's daily inventory log to a subordinate. "If they gain possession of the medallion, much pain and suffering could be unleashed on all of mankind."

Lucan tried to absorb the monumental information and keep breathing at the same time, a task that was surprisingly difficult. After a moment, he managed to get a grip on his composure. "What would you have me do, My Lord?" he asked, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper.

Castiel looked pleased, his mouth turning up slightly at the corners in the barest hint of a smile on his young face. "Two of Tigranes' most loyal servants are traveling not far from here, taking the Medallion of Eridu to their leader."

Lucan's eyes lit up. "My Lord! There is no need to worry! We have won the battle in this land and peace is afoot. Tigranes' soldiers have all been ordered to disarm. Surely they will be captured by the Roman army and the medallion retrieved."

"I am not entrusting the retrieval of the medallion to the Roman army, Lucan. I am entrusting it to you. Who you serve here on earth does not concern me. I chose you because you serve the Lord first." Castiel was still staring at the soldier, rarely blinking. "Besides, these men will not be dressed as soldiers and will be crossing the Diyala River by nightfall so you must make haste."

"You want me to intercept them and retrieve the medallion?" Lucan spoke hesitantly.

Castiel didn't seem to notice and continued unfazed. "Yes. But Lucan, tread carefully. They are not servants of Tigranes but are loyal only to Lucifer himself, who would have all of mankind, Romans and Parthians alike, suffer endlessly should we allow it."

"Surely no man would betray his own kind and bring such suffering to his people?"

"They are not men. They are demons, released from the bowels of Hell with no other purpose or desire than to complete this task. You will have to use particular methods and different types of weapons to defeat them."

_Demons?_ "Should you not be carrying out this task then?" Lucan felt a hint of panic rising within him. "Surely My Lord doesn't think I am worthy of such an endeavor!"

Castiel sighed. "Alas, as a Soldier of Heaven, I am unable to complete this undertaking. We too have our limitations. And if I did not believe you worthy, Lucan, I would not be standing here now."

_Honour. He should be feeling honour. And pride. Not fear_. Lucan straightened his back, his hand grasping tightly around the hilt of his sword. "I'll do my best, My Lord Castiel. I shall bring this medallion to you or die trying."

The angel gazed at him thoughtfully, a vaguely sad expression on his young face. "I'm afraid the burden is much heavier than that," he said. "I must entrust its safekeeping to you and to your sons and daughters after you. It must never be known who has this powerful token and it must never, ever be found by those who serve Lucifer." His voice grew sterner for the next statement. "This duty I am bestowing upon you must take precedence over anything else you will ever know, feel, or do. Am I making myself clear?"

Lucan nodded slowly in understanding. _More important than his life, his family, and his beloved Rome. _

"I am sorry," Castiel apologized suddenly, looking away for a brief second with what appeared to be guilt, "To ask this sacrifice of you and all those who follow you, but we have been given no choice."

"Very well, My Lord. Tell me where I find these demons and what I need to do."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

**Chapter 1**** - ****I'm Not Interested in Driving Your Car, Dean**

_(Set between episodes 'Criss Angel is a Douchebag' and 'After School Special', in January of season 4)_

**_January 17, 2009... _**

Dean's eyes were closed and his head was resting against the passenger side window of his beloved Impala as he waited for Sam to pay for the gas and stock up on travel munchies from the fill-up station's convenience store. As usual, he was trying his hardest to rest and replenish his drained energy without actually succumbing to sleep. The job they were heading towards in Alabama was weak and most likely the work of pranksters, but it was all he had been able to find on short notice. He just wanted to keep moving, keep on the go.

Down time was not his friend these days. Not only did it give him too much time to dwell on his guilt and fear and relive the memories of his time in Hell, but it also gave Sam time to ponder the issue and build up the courage to try and talk to his older brother about it. Dean didn't want to talk about it.

At first, he had felt relieved to have finally opened up to Sam about the horrific things he had done for Alistair. It was like some of the weight had been lifted from his tired shoulders. He had done it on a whim, encouraged by Anna's words of temporary comfort about him having people he could open up to. It seemed saying the words out loud had allowed Sam to somehow lighten Dean's overwhelming burden of guilt over the countless souls he had tortured. But his brother's behavior afterwards had made Dean regret his selfish moment of sharing. The burden had not been lessened; part of it had just shifted from Dean's shoulders to Sam's.

Dean noticed things. At least things concerning Sam. He had spent the kid's whole life watching him, noticing him, even when he was pretending not to. The younger Winchester's face was pretty much an open book as far as Dean was concerned. After his admission, Sam's face began to show new lines of worry. His little brother had enough shit on his plate with the demon blood thing; Dean knew he shouldn't have added another generous helping of guilt. He was constantly feeling Sam's eyes on him when he wasn't looking, checking on him, worrying about him. That was his job, damnit! He was the big brother. Or at least, he used to be.

It had been almost two months since Dean's first roadside confession. Two months of trying to keep on a hunt to avoid non-job related conversations. Then suddenly Dean had found himself in the midst of another impromptu 'share and care' moment and had admitted that not only had he tortured souls in Hell, but that he had liked it. Sam's reaction to this revelation was a little harder to read, but Dean couldn't help but think it was anger. Not directed at Dean but rather at Lillith. A renewed lust for vengeance gleamed in the younger hunter's hazel eyes. So Dean was trying to return to his old ways of masking his inner hurt, though he wasn't entirely sure he had his brother fooled.

Dean's train of thought was interrupted by a sound from the driver's seat_. _Thinking Sam had returned, he squinted one eye open and turned his head slightly to get a glimpse of the shaggy haired giant he called his brother. Only it wasn't Sam he saw sitting quietly in the seat next to him. It was Castiel.

Dean's eyes shot open. He hadn't seen Castiel since the incident with Anna and had been convinced he had pissed the Big Guy off and had been permanently removed from the official employee list. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, sitting up.

"Hello Dean," said Castiel in his usual soft-spoken, unanimated voice. The greeting seemed friendly enough and Dean thought he saw a hint of a smile on the angel's face.

"Huh," he said gruffly, shaking the last of the sleepiness away. He looked warily at Castiel, who was sitting with his left hand on the steering wheel. "Don't even think about driving this thing, Cas," he warned in an only half-teasing tone. "Winchesters only."

"I'm not interested in driving your car, Dean." Yes, this time it was definitely a smile. Well, half a smile, but that was the most he ever got from the angel anyway.

"Well, what are you doing here then?" Dean asked for the second time.

"I have work for you."

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Really?" he said skeptically. "'Cause I thought after the whole Anna thing, you and your kind were no longer in the Winchester fan club."

Castiel pursed his lips and gave a small sigh before continuing calmly. "You did what you thought was right. It is our hope, _my_ hope, that you will learn to trust us."

"Start showing a little compassion and I might," Dean snapped. Getting no reaction from Cas but a slow blink, he continued. "So what happened to Anna anyway? She get away?"

"The matter is out of my hands," Castiel replied evenly.

"What does that mean?"

"Exactly what I said. It is not for me to decide. I don't know what will happen to her."

"_Will_ happen?" Dean picked up. "So that means she's alright for now?"

Another sigh. Done calmly, like impatience without the impatience. "I have work for you, Dean," he continued without answering the hunter's question. "Important work. A peace offering of sorts. It took some convincing on my part to persuade others that you were worthy of this task." The angel looked Dean in the eyes with a steady, unblinking gaze. "So tell me Dean, can I trust you?"

The question struck a chord within Dean. For reasons he couldn't quite define, he felt like he needed Castiel's approval. He definitely had serious doubts that all angels were on the right side, or at least on the side of 'right'. He knew for a fact that Uriel wasn't anything like an angel was supposed to be. But Cas was different. Oh, he was still a dick with wings, but Dean had actually missed him popping up from time to time over the past two months. Castiel was Dean's greatest evidence that his soul was not beyond redemption. Cas had believed the doomed hunter could help mankind and had saved him from Hell. Now, searching for the answer to the question the angel had just asked him, Dean realized that he badly wanted to prove himself worthy of that rescue. After all, if anyone was able to justify forgiveness of his sins - and there were now so very many to forgive - an Angel of the Lord would be the one to do it.

"Yes," he replied seriously, surprising himself a bit.

Castiel looked pleased. "Very well. I need you to go to Arkansas."

"Yeah? What's in Arkansas?"

"I need you to retrieve an artifact from the son of a priest."

"Artifact huh? Alright, I'll bite. What is this artifact and what's its importance to, uh, you know, your boss?" He pointed upwards.

"It's a medallion. And it is of almost unparalleled importance." Cas gave Dean a hard stare to get his point across.

"Unparalleled, huh?" Dean tried to curb his sarcasm. "And I'm supposed to believe you're trusting us with this after all that happened a couple of months ago?" Dean asked, unable to hide his suspicions.

"Your disobedience only seems to be a factor when you perceive a different view on what is the right thing to do. I do not believe this will be an issue for this task."

"Why's that?"

"The medallion must be kept safe from the hands of the enemy so that it cannot be used to open another seal on Lucifer's prison. We may disagree on some things, Dean, but we do all agree that Lucifer must never walk free."

Dean nodded in understanding. "Okay, Cas. I'm in. Who's this priest?"

"Father Felix Smit passed away yesterday. His family has been entrusted with the safekeeping of the medallion for many generations. Unfortunately, he leaves behind only one son. This son is not worthy of this task, especially in these perilous times."

Dean did not miss the implication of Castiel's words. That he, Dean Winchester, _was_ worthy. "Does he know the real value of the medallion?" he asked.

Cas shrugged. "We assume his father told him. He was, after all, in line to take over its safekeeping. But the faith of the young these days isn't what it should be and he is likely more concerned with its monetary value."

"You telling me this guy will sell it?" Dean arched an eyebrow.

Castiel didn't answer. Dean wondered briefly if the angel chose to just ignore some questions or mistook them for the rhetorical variety. Either way, it was damn annoying.

"OKay, so where in Arkansas are we going?" he asked.

"Loela. The medallion is gold with a green stone in its center. And Dean, I suggest you keep this between you and your brother."

With that, the angel and his 'vessel' vanished. Dean could see the convenience store door where Castiel had previously blocked his view and saw Sam emerging carrying two plastic bags_. He'd better not have forgotten my pie,_ he thought hungrily, scooting himself over into the driver's seat.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_Next up: Dean gets a surprise call from past friend Josh and the Winchesters have to take a slight (1 chapter long) detour from Cas's mission..._


	2. Now We're Indiana Jones?

_Slight detour in this chapter but don't worry, the search for the medallion starts up next chap, I promise. I don't know any Spanish and just used an online dictionary so I apologize for any mistakes in the Spanish in this chapter. Also, remember this is set halfway through season 4 so Dean and Cas are still developing their 'profound bond' – there are still some trust issues there._

**Chapter 2**** - Now We're Indiana Jones? **

"So what, now we're Indiana Jones?" Sam scowled at his brother when he had finished relaying the exchange with the Angel.

Dean just grinned.

"So how is this medallion used to open a seal?" Sam asked between mouthfuls of his Twinkie as they barreled south along the highway.

"I dunno. Cas didn't say." Dean replied without waiting for the 'between mouthfuls'.

Sam let out a huff in frustration. "So that's all he said? 'Unparalleled importance' and 'keep it safe'?"

Dean shrugged. "It's an olive branch, Sam. At least they're not pissed at us anymore."

"Since when are you all Team Angel?" Sam asked his brother suspiciously. It had been less than two months since the angels had been instructed to kill Anna simply because she had made a choice for herself. "What, now you're all Employee of the Month again?"

Dean took another bite of his junk food snack, not answering for a few seconds. "Look, I'm not saying the angels are perfect... but we got a common goal here. I don't agree with the way they do things but this is war and we have to choose a side. Theirs is a damn site better than the other choice."

Sam couldn't argue with that. "Alright," he sighed, "but we go in with our eyes open."

Dean's reply was interrupted by his cell phone ringing, the opening chords of Deep Purple's _Smoke on the Water_ wailing from his pocket. With one hand holding his chocolate bar, he skillfully steadied the steering wheel with his knee while his other hand dug around for his cell.

"It's not a hands-free state," he said indignantly in answer to Sam's reproachful look and glanced at the phone's display screen.

"Blocked call," he read aloud as he shrugged and answered the phone anyway.

"Hello?…..Yeah, this is Dean. Who's this?…..Hey! Didn't figure I'd ever hear from you again….Oh, no shit…..In Texas? Bad place to get pinched, man….As a matter of fact, I have. In Green River County. Wasn't so bad. Sammy here didn't like it much though." Dean laughed as he threw an amused look at his little brother.

Sam was curious to know who Dean was talking to. "Who is it?" he mouthed to his brother, who ignored him, still laughing into the phone. The conversation seemed to revolve around jail for a minute, even further piquing Sam's interest. He repeated his question out loud and was finally acknowledged by Dean pressing the speaker button on his phone.

Sam recognized the voice right away as that of Josh Brenton, a self-proclaimed 'part-time hunter' who traveled with his sister, Alex. Sam and Dean had met the very likeable Brentons last October in Indiana. They had been hunting a Celtic God of Revenge that was killing people in the small town. It turned out to be a particularly powerful foe and the Brentons had helped the Winchesters more than once during the hunt.

Josh and Alex had been living off the grid using fake ID's for several years now and it sounded to Sam like he had been arrested.

"…_cellmate's not bad but chow in here sucks_!" Josh was saying through the phone's speaker.

"I hear ya," Dean replied with a chuckle, speaking more loudly now. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to hear from you dude, but why are you calling me now?" he asked bluntly.

They could hear Josh sigh. "_Well, I hate to trouble you_," he said apologetically, "_b__ut I have nobody else I trust. I need a favour. It's my sister_."

"Is she alright?" both Winchesters asked in unison. The brothers had liked the Brentons, both Josh and Alex, and were genuinely concerned for Josh's seemingly carefree but somewhat troubled younger sister.

"_Hey Fiver! That you I hear_?" Josh laughed through the phone at the sound of Sam's voice.

Sam rolled his eyes at the nickname. Ex-surfer Josh had called him everything _but_ Sam during the few days they had known them. This nickname, Fiver, was a rabbit in Watership Down that had death visions, much like Sam once had. Josh had overheard a conversation between the Winchesters about Sam's psychic abilities and had later pressed Sam for details. Sam had confessed his early abilities only, not mentioning the more recent powers that he had secretly been practicing with Ruby. Josh and his sister were on the very short list of people who knew that the yellow-eyed demon had dripped his blood into baby Sam's mouth.

"Yeah, I'm here," Sam replied, ignoring Dean's questioning look about the nickname.

"_Well, don't worry, Lexie's fine as far as I'm aware. She hasn't been picked up by the cops, anyway. But she's being her usual troublesome self and I'm kinda worried about her. I think she's planning on doing something stupid_."

"She's not going to try break you out is she?" Sam asked in disbelief. That was not a good idea.

Josh laughed again. Good to see even prison hadn't dampened the affable man's sense of humour. "_She's a bit reckless, kid, not stupid. I got word from one of the guards here that she was pressing him for information on who the big players are in here. I think she's going to pay a visit to the family of one of them and try to, I dunno, buy me some protection on the inside or something._" He was no longer laughing. "_I know it sounds insane but she's stubborn and just crazy enough to do it_."

"I don't think that sounds so crazy," Sam defended. Dean gave him a disapproving look, obviously agreeing with Josh.

"_I'm fine_," Josh continued. "_This place sucks and yeah, I'll admit I've already been in the infirmary once, but I'll be fine. I can't call her and I need you guys to find her and convince her I'm okay and I don't need her help_. _And make sure she doesn't do anything stupid_. _She's kinda soft on you two so who knows, she may actually listen to you." _

Dean shook his head and rolled his eyes, but Sam could tell he had already made up his mind to help Josh out.

"Why can't you just call her?" Sam asked, still speaking loudly into the speaker phone.

"_The cells we had were on a family plan_," he explained with a snort, obviously annoyed with himself for the amateur oversight. "_When I got picked up I had mine on me and my uncle showed up and got the cops to trace hers. He tried to pick her up at the motel but apparently she got away but she ditched the phone. But now I have no way of contacting her. Uncle Bryce has a lot of pull with some pretty influential people and he's all over me trying to find her. I'm pretty sure he's the one who got me banned from making phone calls. I've got the guard who spoke to Lex to thank for this one call off the books_."

"Uncle Bryce... is that the psychiatrist uncle that's been trying to put Alex away?" Dean asked, remembering that she had admitted to him that her uncle wanted to have her committed to his psychiatric hospital, believing the monster that was after her to be a figment of her imagination. It was this uncle who had issued a warrant for her involuntary confinement in a psychiatric facility. It was breaking Alex out of a facility when she was seventeen that had earned Josh an outstanding warrant for his arrest and the reason the pair had been on the run for the last eight years from the law as well as the stalker-monster that had been terrorizing her since childhood.

"_Yeah, that's the uncle. He means well, but he just doesn't understand the consequences for Lex if she was trapped in some facility_."

"So dude, you get one call and you call us?" Dean joked. "You _are_ seriously hurtin' for friends!"

Josh laughed half-heartedly and the brothers could hear the echo of voices in the background. "_I know it's not your usual gig but_ _I figured if anyone would understand my dilemma, it would be you, Dean_."

"Yeah, I get it," Dean replied with a pointed look at Sam. "I know too well what a pain in the ass little siblings can be."

"How are we supposed to find her if you don't know where she is?" Sam asked, ignoring the dig from Dean.

_"Well, the top dog in my block is a gang thug from San Antonio named Carlos Mendoza. I'm pretty sure she's gonna go see his old lady to make some kind of deal_. _I was thinking you could probably catch her at his place_. _He's a hard core drug dealer, man. I can't have her walking around in the middle of his turf."_ There was a pause. "_I'm sorry to ask this of you guys. I really appreciate it_."

"Not a problem," Dean assured him quickly. "We're driving right by there anyway on the way to our next gig."

"_Thanks_. _Can you make sure she gets her new ID's and maybe check in on her from time to time 'til I get out_? _Just the odd phone call is all I ask, make sure Red-Eyes hasn't caught up with her." _The Winchesters could hear the worry in his voice when it hitched at the name of the supernatural creature that had been stalking Alex since childhood.

"Yeah, sure," Sam chimed in, throwing a look at Dean that said San Antonio was definitely not on their way.

"This means that Desert Eagle of yours is mine fair and square, then," Dean bartered, remembering how he had won the gun from Josh in a poker game then lost it back in a bet but hadn't had a chance to return it before the Brentons had taken off, speeding away in their SUV to get away from Red-Eyes.

"_Like I was going to get it back anyway_," Josh retorted teasingly. "_Bro, you do this for me and I will totally owe you_. _Oh_, a_nd one more thing Romeo, I'm asking you to take care of my sister, not __**take care**__ of her_," he warned in only partial jest. This comment, Sam noted with a chuckle, was directed squarely at Dean.

"I would never!" Dean replied indignantly, giving Sam a mischievous wink. Josh's sister was undeniably a very pretty girl.

"_Where are you guys now?"_ Josh asked, changing the subject. "_How soon can you be in Texas?_"

"We're in Colorado," Sam answered. "If we drive most of the night, we can be in San Antonio by tomorrow afternoon, so that's Sunday."

"_That's good, you should be able to catch her then. She won't have access to any big chunk of money until Monday." _His voice got muffled for a few seconds, as if speaking to someone else while holding the phone to his chest._ "Look, I gotta get going," _he said quickly back into the phone._ "But thanks again guys_. _I owe you."_

The line went dead. Dean flipped his phone closed and looked over at Sam. "What exit do we take for San Antonio?"

"What about Castiel's job?" Sam asked the obvious question.

"This'll take a day, tops," Dean waved his hand in the air, dismissing Sam's concern. He spoke confidently but the angel's words repeated silently in his head, bringing a pang of doubt. _So tell me Dean, can I trust you? _"We find Alex, tell her not to be stupid, and we're on our way," he told his brother confidently. He wasn't going to let anyone down this time. Not Josh, not Alex, and not Castiel.

Sam snorted. "Yeah, 'cause she's not pigheaded or anything when it comes to her brother."

Dean rolled his eyes in agreement. "No shit. What the Hell is she thinking?"

"Actually I understand what she's doing," Sam jumped to defend Josh's younger sister. "She's trying to look out for her family in any way she can. You older brothers don't have a monopoly on worrying, you know."

Dean just rolled his eyes, fighting the smile that was tugging at the corners of his mouth as he steered the Impala towards the exit south.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

With a couple of phone calls and an internet search, Sam easily found the address to the gang member's house, a dilapidated two-storey in a very low-income part of town. They sat outside watching for Alex and, as the time dragged by, Dean grumbled continuously about the safety of the Impala being parked in this neighborhood.

"Dude, nothin's gonna happen to the car while we're sitting in it," Sam argued with exasperation. "You realize most people would be worried about themselves, not their car," he added.

Dean snorted. "If we can take on demons and wendigos, I think we can handle a couple of gang bangers, Sam."

"They've got guns, you know. You've been killed before by a thug with a gun."

"That doesn't count," Dean defended. "That was the Trickster's doing. If he hadn't been putting his mojo into the mix, I would have just disarmed the dude and sent him on his way."

Sam didn't bother arguing with his brother. Dean was generally impatient and it wasn't unusual for him to get bored and in turn snippy on stake-outs. Since his return from the pit, however, Dean had taken an even stronger dislike to quiet times where they had nothing to do. Especially quiet times where Sam was within watching distance and he wasn't able to slip a few swigs from the whiskey bottle he always had tucked inside his jacket. Sam had called Dean out on the drinking issue a couple of times but after his brother had opened up and admitted that four months up here had been forty years for him in Hell, Sam just didn't have the heart to harass him about downing a few too many shots of whiskey to cope.

"Hey," Sam tapped his brother's sleeve and pointed down the street where a blue Ford Bronco was parallel parking. "Check it out."

The brothers watched as a slim, attractive girl about Sam's age with elbow-length blonde hair got out of the driver's side, crossed the road, and started walking back towards the Mendoza house. They got out of the car and waited for her to get a bit closer.

"Hey Sunshine!" Dean called over to her, using the teasing nickname he had given her back in Indiana.

She looked up sharply to see who had yelled and her eyes widened as they fell on the Winchester brothers. Dean was leaning casually against the Impala driver's door and Sam was strolling around the front of the car to join him. A huge grin appeared on her face and she changed course quickly, jogging back over the street towards them. "Oh my God!" she cried in delight as she reached them, giving Dean a hug, which he returned enthusiastically, throwing his brother a cheeky grin and a wink over the blonde's shoulder as he squeezed her tightly. She let go and gave Sam the same greeting, although he returned the hug in a far gentler manner. Both Winchesters couldn't help but grin at her obvious glee to see them.

"Well, if it isn't Bo and Luke!" she laughed, struggling with herself to resist giving them each another hug. "And the General," she added, patting the hood of the Impala fondly. "What are you guys doing here? A hunt?"

"Uh, yeah, of sorts," Dean replied with a snort. "We're hunting an irrational little sister who's being an idiot and getting mixed up with a dangerous gang."

Alex's smile disappeared and she frowned at Dean. "Did my brother send you?" she accused, hands on her hips. Before he could answer though, another thought struck her. "Oh! That means you talked to Josh! How is he? I haven't spoken to him since he was arrested and it's been over two weeks."

"He's fine, Alex," Sam tried to convince her. "That's why we're here. Whatever you're planning on doing, you don't need to. He assured us he's fine."

"No he isn't!" Alex snapped. "He's just being Josh and saying he is, but he isn't. I spoke to one of his guards and he's already had the shit kicked out of him and ended up in the infirmary."

"That always happens in the first week in the joint," Dean reassured her, remembering his tousle with Tiny. "It's probably over now that the hierarchy's been established. Don't ever tell him I said so, but your brother can handle himself. He'll be fine now."

"He's not and you know it, Dean!" she argued, eyes ablaze. "Admit it; he's way too much of a pretty-boy to be in prison."

Dean snickered at her comment, remembering the many times he had teased Josh for that very thing. But the mirth didn't last and neither Winchester tried to argue with her any further. No matter how tough Josh may be, the truth was he was going to have a hard time of it in a federal prison. At the very least, he was definitely going to get his ass kicked a few more times. Probably a lot worse.

A thought occurred to Alex. "How did Josh know what I was going to do?"

"A guard told him," Sam answered.

"What?" she huffed indignantly. "I suffered through three hours of excruciatingly dull dinner conversation with that bore and he went and ratted me out?"

"What are you planning on doing here anyway?" Dean asked, gesturing towards the house. During the hours he and Sam had been parked there, a number of unsavoury characters had come and gone from the dwelling.

"Well, me being a girl and all kinda means the Michael Schofield play's out," she said with playful sarcasm. Both guys were standing with their arms folded over their chests staring at her. "Okay, listen, the guy who owns this house is the big bad ass on Josh's cell block," she explained. "I'm just gonna go talk to his wife, offer her some cash to get her husband to look out for my brother. That's all. I promise."

Dean and Sam hesitated, trying to think of how to best convince her that this was not a good idea. Her next words, however, changed their minds and they both simultaneously decided to go along with it, for her sake as much as her brother's.

"He's in there because of me," she continued quietly. "The warrant on him was for breaking me out of my Uncle Bryce's psychiatric facility years ago. Of course, he couldn't get bail because of the fake ID's he had on him, you know, flight risk and all that. I obviously couldn't go to the hearing but my uncle showed up and convinced the judge to offer Josh a deal. If he turned me in, they would let him off with probation only. I got a hold of the transcripts. He turned it down flat. Repeatedly." She looked pleadingly at the brothers. "Please don't try to stop me because I need to do this for him. I need to do _something_."

Sam and Dean both understood guilt and every Winchester knew a thing or two about sacrifice for a loved one.

Dean sighed. "Well, you're not going in there alone," he told her, his hand instinctively tapping the Colt .45 tucked in the back of his pants as a subconscious confirmation it was still there.

Alex frowned. "Uh, I dunno, Dean. This guy is apparently high up in the gang and there could be some gang members in the house."

"All the more reason we're coming in with you," Dean said in an authoritative tone.

"You're not getting it. I'm less of a threat than you," Alex argued, hesitantly. "Things could turn ugly if I try to bring Sly and Arnie."

"Alex, you either let us come with you or nobody goes," Sam said firmly.

"We'll play nice," Dean added with a smirk. "We promise."

Alex laughed, realizing there was no point in arguing. If she had learned anything about the Winchesters in the short time she had known them, it was that they were stubborn... and extremely handy to have around in a tight spot. "Okay but I do the talking." With that she spun on her heel and marched across the road, leaving Sam and Dean hurrying to catch up.

She knocked loudly on the front door and waited for a reply. A large, Hispanic man opened the main door and stood behind the screen without opening it. He looked surprised at finding Alex standing on the porch but stiffened warily at the sight of the two men behind her. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"I'm Alex Winfield," the girl answered, instinctively using a fake name in case this meeting ended badly. "My brother is in Fort Worth Prison with Carlos. I'm here to speak with Carlos' wife, Selena."

"Who are they?" The man jerked his head towards Sam and Dean.

Alex shrugged apologetically. "We're not from around here," she replied in a friendly tone. "These are my cousins, Biff and Cletis. They're just looking out for me."

Dean gave her an indignant glare but kept quiet. He was not used to letting someone else take point and found it especially offensive to be referred to as just the muscle. Country bumpkin muscle at that.

"You can come in," the man said, looking appraisingly at Alex. "But your cousins, they stay outside." Dean took a step towards Alex, hooking his hand around her elbow, not sure if she was going to agree to the unacceptable terms or not but preparing to stop her if she did.

There came a woman's voice from behind the man. "Hector, quién es?"

The man turned to answer. "Uno belleza and her baboso cousins looking for you." He turned back to the three at the door with a sneer. "Dos gringos de aspecto tonto."

Dean thought it was probably a good thing he didn't understand Spanish.

A woman appeared next to the man. She was young, attractive and held a small toddler on her hip. She looked out at the three on her doorstep curiously. "You have to excuse my brother," she smiled, nodding her head towards the big man next to her. "He has no manners. What do you want with me?"

"My brother is in Fort Worth Federal Prison with your husband," Alex explained again. "I'm afraid some of the inmates have taken a dislike to him and I was wondering if your husband could maybe look out for him. I can pay for his help." She decided direct and to the point was the best approach.

Selena studied her for a moment, giving Sam and Dean a good look-over also before pulling open the screen door, nudging her brother out of the way, much to his obvious annoyance.

She put the toddler down and shooed him away as she directed them to the small, tidy living room. "Please, have a seat," she offered. Alex did so politely but Sam and Dean remained standing, not turning their back to Hector, who still stood in the kitchen, hands fingering a lump under his shirt that looked suspiciously like a gun. Selena looked nervously at the three men standing tensely behind them.

"They'll be fine," Alex assured her with a wave of her hand in the air, dismissing the tension. "They're just being boys. Let's get this arrangement decided quickly so I can get them out of here."

Dean gritted his teeth at the comment and Sam let out a small huff of annoyance, but they let it slide, surprised at how well it seemed to work.

"Okay. What do you want me to do?" Selena asked, sitting on the couch across from the chair where Alex was seated.

"Simple. I know your husband has a lot of influence on the inside. You talk to him, get him to agree to look out for my brother. Carlos makes sure nobody lays a hand on him. Ever. And I pay you for every month that he stays unharmed."

Selena looked thoughtful. Though the living room was generally neat and obviously kept with some pride. There were a lot of toys around so it was likely she had two or maybe even three kids to raise. With a husband in jail only two years into a five year stretch, things had to be tight on the financial front. She seemed like a woman with dignity and Alex worried briefly if she had offended her with her bluntness.

"How much?" Selena asked after a moment's pause.

"My brother's in there for a maximum of six months. I can come up with five thousand a month plus an extra five thousand the day he walks out safely. I'll give you post-dated checks. That's all I can possibly get my hands on, so don't try to change the deal or threaten him for more. No bonuses, no advances. And if he gets so much as a black eye, the check for that month will _not_ clear, I promise you. I know some of the guards so trust me, I will know right away if anything happens to him." Alex had obviously put a lot of thought into this plan. She was straightforward and delivered her terms quickly and clearly.

The woman had let out an audible gasp at the five thousand dollar figure Alex had thrown at her, it clearly being more than she had expected. "I'll have to send someone to see my husband to discuss it," she said hesitantly.

"Visiting hours are nine o'clock to noon tomorrow," Alex answered quickly, having done her homework. "I'll expect an answer by one." She handed Selena a piece of paper. "Here's my phone number. Call me."

"Okay," the woman agreed, standing up quickly and taking the number as if to shoo Alex outside before she could change her mind. Alex took the hint and got up to leave also, giving Dean a quick, hopeful wink as she passed him on her way to the door. Sam moved with her, keeping his bulk between her and Selena's brother. Dean waited for both of them to get to the door before turning his back on Hector, who was still standing in the kitchen with a look of disbelief on his face.

"Alejandra?" the woman called from the living room.

"Yes?" Alex stopped and turned around at the top step of the porch.

"Your brother, what's his name?"

"Joshua Brenton," she replied. "Oh, and I'd um... really rather he not find out about our deal," she added with a pleading look.

The woman laughed in understanding. "No pasa nada. You have my word."

When they reached the road, Alex turned to the brothers with a gratified look on her face. "I think this might actually work!" she grinned.

Sam had been impressed by her directness and her thoroughness to the details during her very one-sided negotiations. "I think you missed your calling, Alex. You should have been a lawyer."

"Lawyer?" Alex replied with a snort. "Boring! Can you imagine me putting briefs together and all that crap." She looked sharply at Sam and winced, remembering suddenly that he had been pre-Law at Stanford. "Uh, no offense Matlock. Say, anyone up for supper?"

Sam laughed, remembering her tendency to change the subject quite abruptly whenever it suited her.

The mention of food started Dean's stomach growling. "Yes please!" he said with enthusiasm.

"Where are you staying?" Alex asked.

"We don't have a place yet. We just rolled into town this afternoon," Sam answered.

"I'm at Cecil's Motel. They've got vacancies and a diner. You two should grab a room there. It'll be just like old times," she grinned, "Only no Brody!" _And no Josh_, she realized, but pushed the thought from her mind quickly, refusing to let it get her spirits down right now. The last two weeks had been pretty miserable for her and the Winchester brothers showing up out of the blue felt like a godsend.

Sam looked at Dean. They had been driving all night and could use some sleep - in a bed for a change instead of in the Impala. They should probably wait until tomorrow to get back on the road anyway. They had been hoping to run into the Brentons again at some point to get more information on Red-Eyes from them since they had made no headway on their own in finding and ganking the mysterious demon. They weren't going to waste this opportunity. Dean gave him a nod of approval and Sam told Alex they'd meet her there. The brothers both chuckled as she practically skipped off towards the Bronco parked a few cars up.

"Thirty-five thousand dollars!" Dean exclaimed in disbelief as soon as they were out of earshot. "I figured she was gonna blow a couple of grand! If you ever gave away thirty-five thousand dollars to save me from a couple of beatings, I would whoop your ass, Sammy!"

Sam chuckled, heartened by the familiar childhood nickname that he was hearing less and less from Dean these days. "If the husband agrees, she sure guaranteed Josh won't be left unwatched for even a second," he laughed before his face pulled into a grimace. "He's gonna be pissed."

"If she can spend thirty five grand on a deal like that, how much money do you think they have?" Dean asked him, looking thoughtful.

Sam just laughed at his brother's interest, "What does it matter, Dean?"

"Doesn't really," Dean admitted. "Just curious."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Sam and Dean got a room a couple of doors down from Alex's at Cecil's Motel, a fleapit even by Winchester standards. The diner, however, served a surprisingly tasty burrito and the three enjoyed a pleasant supper. Dean even managed to refrain from expressing his worries over the repercussions of Sam's choice of meal, figuring his brother wouldn't appreciate the humour in front of Alex. Deciding there was nothing else they needed to be doing, Dean picked up a case of beer and the three sat on the mostly broken lounge chairs that were scattered around the empty pool. It was a warm night and the air was definitely fresher outside than in their stuffy rooms.

"Well, I'll hand it to you, Lex," Dean joked, surveying the peeling paint and the rather scary looking brown puddle of rainwater in the pool while remembering the last dump Alex had recommended they stay at in Dayton. "You sure can pick the classiest vacation spots."

Alex just shrugged, "The skeevier the place, the fewer questions they ask."

"So you and Josh ended up in Texas after Ohio?" Sam asked her.

"Nah, but close. We went to Albuquerque. We like to winter in the warmer climates," she said. "We tried this one winter in Vermont. Josh figured he'd snowboard, I mean, how different could that be from surfing, right? He broke his leg the first day on the slope and spent the next eight weeks hopping around the apartment, whining and driving me nuts so now we always make sure we're somewhere in the south come winter." It was strange how an unpleasant experience could seem funny in retrospect and she smiled. "We have a New Year's tradition of making some phone calls," she added, "but we always drive at least one state away to avoid the calls being traced. We keep in touch with two old friends from California and can only really chance calling them once or twice a year."

"How'd Josh get arrested?" Dean asked, carefully keeping the conversation on the subject of the Brentons and off the Winchesters out of habit.

"Bar fight," she shook her head disapprovingly. "It was so stupid. All those years we break into places, dig up graves, carry guns around and we never get so much as a speeding ticket. I swear, my brother needs to learn the difference between harmless flirting and crossing-the-line vulgarity."

Dean arched an eyebrow. "Josh got pinched because he was being vulgar to a chick?"

"No," Alex corrected. "Josh got pinched because he punched a guy who was harmlessly flirting with his sister. He may be a bit of a dog when it comes to women but he never crosses the line," she added in defense of her brother, whose wayward ways with the ladies rivaled that of the elder Winchester. She rolled her eyes, "And he has been known to be a little overprotective where I'm concerned."

"Yeah, that he is," Sam laughed. "He practically threatened Dean warning him to behave."

Alex blushed furiously. "Oh my God, he didn't, did he? I swear, he thinks I'm still fourteen sometimes." She covered her eyes with a groan. "It's probably because you're hunters."

"Got a thing for hunters do you?" Sam teased, throwing a _go-for-it-dude_ look at Dean, who scowled his disapproval of his brother's unexpected suggestion.

"No but let's just say Josh thinks I do. Well," she conceded, "there was this one hunter. He traveled around with his dog in an old Mustang and he stayed with us for a few weeks waiting for Red-Eyes to show up. I'll admit, I was pretty smitten. More than smitten, even. Of course, I was also nineteen and stupid as they come."

"What happened?" Sam asked.

Alex blushed again. "Apparently I wasn't his type," she said, leaning her head back on the lounge chair in apparent embarrassment. "Turns out he was into my brother instead. Like, _really_ into him. Totally caught us off guard."

Dean nearly spat out his beer with laughter. "Oh my God, that is freaking priceless! How did Dr. Phil not see that one coming?" Dean remembered Josh had been particularly adept at reading people. In the few days they had hunted together in Indiana last year, he had seen through much of the veil that Dean kept pulled tightly around himself - an impressive but very unnerving skill.

"My brother can figure people out pretty well," Alex admitted. "But he has absolutely no gay-dar at all. In fact, when he first saw you two, he thought Sam might have been gay," she added with an apologetic smile at the younger Winchester.

Dean snorted. "That's not so strange. I've often thought that myself," he teased.

The three sat around the empty, derelict pool, sipping beer and chatting until well after dark. Feeling almost relaxed for the first time in a long time, Dean slipped over to the Impala to do the standard inventory of the trunk arsenal, still within earshot but leaving the younger two to gab amongst themselves for a spell.

"So where will you go next?" Sam asked, finding it much easier to keep the questions aimed at Alex this time round. The first time they had met, before he and Dean had found out about Alex's demon stalker, the girl had been impossible to get any information out of and he had ended up doing most of the sharing. Now he figured she was missing her brother tremendously because she was more than willing to share stories about him and the Brentons' past.

"I got a hold of Beacon. He's the old friend in California that gets all our fake ID's for us," she explained. "He's figuring Nashville this time round. Josh doesn't really blend with the cowboys and refuses to live in Tennessee again so we thought I may as well hang there while he's...away." Her voice quietened at the last words, reminding her that her brother would be gone a while.

Sam noticed the change and tried to cheer her up. "You know, it's only six months. Maybe even less. Your brother'll be fine and he'll be out before you even know it."

"Yeah, I know," she smiled unconvincingly at him.

"So, you keep in touch with people from California? Do you still think of there as home?" Sam asked, trying to change the subject.

Alex shook her head fervently. "Definitely not. I don't miss the days of having a permanent home at all. Home was always just the place Red-Eyes could find me. Truthfully, I like being on the road. I never really needed a 'where' to feel at home, ya know? Just a 'who'."

"And that 'who' would be Josh?"

"Yeah." She picked at the label on her beer bottle and sighed. "I feel lost, Sam. I've lived in twenty states in seven and a half years and this is the first time I've ever felt homeless." She let out a half-hearted chuckle and looked sheepishly up at Sam. "I can't believe I just said that. That sounded so stupid, didn't it?"

Sam shook his head, stealing a glance over at Dean who was repacking the salt rounds and pretending he wasn't listening. "Not at all," Sam said softly, not wanting to embarrass the girl for a rare moment of sharing. "I used to always think I wanted a home, like a house or an apartment - more than anything. Then last year, Dean was away for a while... for like four months. I can honestly say no house or even the car would have ever felt like home with him gone." He glanced at his brother again, who was sitting sideways on the rear fender of the Impala, loading a 9mm spare clip and not looking up. "He's the only family I have left. So I agree with you a hundred percent. Home is family, not some semi-detached or a bungalow with a picket fence." Sam couldn't have told Dean this directly, but it felt nice to know his brother was hearing the words anyway.

"You guys split up for four months?" Alex raised an eyebrow. "What, did you have a fight?"

"No, no way. He was just, uh, on a different hunt," Sam explained quickly, getting a warning glance from Dean, who closed the trunk up and came back over to join them.

"Need more rock salt," he announced as he sat back down, effectively changing the subject.

Another hour and Sam found himself yawning. He had no idea how his brother was even still conscious. Dean had been running on fumes for almost two months, barely sleeping between hunts. But both he and Alex seemed wide awake now, having a very animated argument about where to find the best bacon double cheeseburger.

"You can't seriously think Carl's Jr. is better than Sonic!" Dean scoffed.

"Sonic's a grease pit! I swear Dean, your arteries must look like the Lincoln Tunnel at rush hour," she retorted. "You're a heart attack waiting to happen."

"I'm gonna turn in," Sam announced, stifling yet another yawn. "You guys stayin' up for a while?"

Alex looked over to Dean, hoping he wasn't leaving also. She had always hated being alone, especially at night, and had felt nothing but alone since Josh had been arrested. She liked both of the Winchester brothers immensely and was enjoying their company, even if they were only here for one day. She had four to six months of 'alone' to look forward to so she would gladly stay up all night chatting if they were willing.

As for Dean, he didn't want to sleep. He had done everything possible over the past months to try and avoid sleep. Time alone inside his head was not something he looked forward to. Neither were the nightmares that still plagued him too often when he did finally fall asleep. "I'm gonna stay up for a bit," he told Sam.

Sam would have preferred his brother not keep drinking but at least he was laughing. That was a rare sound in the Winchesters' lives right now. It was becoming increasingly obvious to Sam that Alex seemed to bring out the best in Dean. He had been having a harder and harder time finding any of the zest for life that his big brother had always exhibited and found himself hoping something would develop between them. Alex wasn't without baggage, sure, but when had Dean ever chosen an easy path? Dean needed something to make him look forward instead of anguishing over the past. He needed something to give him hope. He seemed so close to despair right now. Two days ago, in 'Magic-town' he had so casually told Sam that he had no expectations or even any desire to grow old. It had shocked the younger sibling. How could his brother care so little about being alive? Especially since he knew what death could bring him? It may be a long shot, but perhaps Alex could change that.

The friendly argument over fast food now forgotten, Dean offered Alex another beer as his brother left.

"No, thanks. Two's enough for me. I'm a permanent designated driver for the next six months."

"What do you plan on doing in Nashville?" he asked.

"I dunno. Line-dancing and the two-step, I guess. Josh made me swear I'd never hunt alone so it's gonna be a really dull."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Do you enjoy hunting? I figured since you're always insisting you're 'not a hunter'" he finger-quoted sarcastically, "that you just did it when you had to. Thought it was more Josh's Boy Scout thing."

Alex laughed. "I admit we don't go looking for hunts and sometimes they pop up at awkward times and usually in the worst shithole towns, but I enjoy hunting most of the time. I like helping people out, even if they don't have a clue we're even there. And I have to admit it's usually fun, even the research part. But most of all, I think I like succeeding at something. You know that feeling you get when you kill the bad thing and maybe even save somebody?"

Dean knew that feeling very well. In fact, he had developed an almost desperate need for that feeling during his teen years, when he first started going on hunts with his father. He had never felt so good about himself, so worthy, so needed as when he knew he had saved someone's life, whether or not they knew it or appreciated it. It had always made him feel like a bit of a hero, a feeling his demanding, strict father never gave him. In later years, after Sam left him for Stanford, that feeling of satisfaction and redemption was what drove him to keep going, keep getting up every morning, keep hunting. If he wasn't important to his father or Sam, he was at least important to the strangers he saved.

"I mean, it's not like I can hold down a job." Alex continued with a wince. "I swear I've been fired more times than that tourist cannon at the Alamo."

Now it was Dean's turn to laugh. "Don't worry," he admitted, "I've never even had a real job."

"Yes you have," she said, her face turning serious. "Hunting _is_ your job. It's more of a real job than most people ever have. Don't dismiss the good you and your brother do." There was a brief awkward silence, neither having expected the gushing comment. "Speaking of which, I've been meaning to ask you something," she added.

Dean gave her a questioning look, not sure where this was going.

"I don't get my new ID's for a week," she told him. "Sam said you two are just doing a cursed object gig in Arkansas. Mind if I tag along?"

"Oh, no, sorry Lex, that's not a good idea," Dean answered quickly.

"Why not?"

""I promised your brother I'd look after you, not drag you into a hunt," he explained.

"An old medallion?" she pressed. "How dangerous could that be?"

"Any hunt can turn dangerous," Dean pointed out. _Especially one handed to them by an angel_, he thought ruefully.

Alex appeared to be thinking for a moment, which made Dean somewhat nervous. He wasn't sure if she was accepting the answer or preparing to argue. He should have known it was the latter though; Alex had never given in easily.

"Okay, how about this," she said finally. "I promise I'll stay out of your way and I'll obey every order you give me."

Dean shook his head. "It still might not be safe," he shrugged, not changing his mind.

"You forget, I can find trouble all by myself here just as easily," she argued, tapping her temple to remind him of her unusual ability to sense certain supernatural beings. The problem with her 'otherworldly radar' was that many of the creatures she sensed could also sense her, which had often brought her problems of the non-human variety. Red-Eyes was the worst of those problems.

Seeing Dean was about to argue his point some more, she decided to play dirty.

"Come on Dean, please. You promised Josh you'd look after me until I got my ID's. How is leaving me here with my uncle on my heels looking after me?" She felt guilty using the hunter's obvious protective nature against him, but she really wanted some company for a few days. "You know Josh would never leave Sam if you asked him. Come on, I can behave. It's just for a few days and then I'll be line-dancing in Nashville, I swear."

Dean had to laugh. The thought of letting Alex tag along to get Castiel's medallion had occurred to him already, even though he had quickly dismissed it. He did enjoy her company and had been reluctant to leave her alone in Texas with her uncle and the authorities after her. She also provided a much needed temporary buffer between him and Sam. Sam wouldn't push him to talk about Hell if they had company and the two of them had been at each other's throats these days about using these extra powers of Sam's. Dean figured he could always send her away if this gig turned out to be more trouble than expected. And, he had to admit, she had a point about his promise to her brother. He knew her intention in throwing those words at him had been to simply guilt him into letting her come with him and Sam, but they did strike a chord and he found himself relenting. He looked over at her to find a pleading look on her smiling face, baby blues batting emphatically with a sparkle of cheekiness glinting in their depths. _Crap_,_ he was such a sucker for a pretty girl._

"You swear you'll do everything I say?" he demanded, jabbing his finger at her. "Even if I tell you to wait in the car everywhere we go?"

Alex laughed her delight and looked like she was about to jump up and hug him for a second before settling back in her chair again. "I promise, I promise," she agreed quickly. "Thanks Dean."

It was the middle of the night by the time Sam heard Dean come into the motel room they shared. His brother was being fairly quiet, which was a good sign that he wasn't completely inebriated. He pushed up onto his elbow to get a look at the elder Winchester, the dim light of the bathroom vanity lights spilling out past the slightly ajar door. "You're getting in late," he grinned, an accusing smile on his face.

Dean scoffed, not missing the insinuation. "I behaved," he said, truthfully. "I get the feeling Lex doesn't like being alone. She's had a rough couple of weeks and just wanted some company."

Sam stifled a snort of disbelief. He found it just as likely the elder Winchester had been the one avoiding sleep but decided there was no need to point that out. He turned back over in his uncomfortable bed and closed his eyes.

"Uh, by the way," Dean said quietly in the hope Sam wasn't fully awake to hear his next sentence. "I told her she could come with us to Arkansas."

Sam rose up again. "What? Dean, do you really think that's a good idea?"

Dean shrugged. "We're picking up some old jewelry. It's just until she gets her new ID's. Besides, she's gotta go back to that crackhouse tomorrow to give the hot prison wife the checks. No way is she going there by herself."

"Okay." Sam lay back down, agreeing far more quickly than Dean had expected. Dean decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth and quickly turned the bathroom light off and got into bed, hoping he could get at least a couple of hours of dreamless sleep.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Dean did dream, but not the usual nightmares. In what seemed like that final half hour before dawn officially hit, his eyes opened and he found himself fully awake. He glanced around the room to see Sam still sleeping soundly but the motel room door wide open. Jumping into instant alert mode, he got up quickly, fist closing around the knife he kept under his pillow. He made his way cautiously to the door and peered outside. His trained eyes scanned around his car, down the line of motel doors, and out across the empty pool. The blue Bronco was still parked two doors down and there was nobody in sight. His eyes came back around to rest on his beloved Impala again but this time he noticed Castiel leaning casually against the hood, still wearing his beige trench coat and suit, his tie loosened about the neck. Dean relaxed his shoulders and strolled over towards the angel, closing his motel door behind him to keep from waking Sam, not sure if he was awake or dreaming at this point.

"What are you doing here?" he asked Castiel in a hushed voice.

"That's what I came to ask you, Dean."

Dean winced, feeling a bit like a teenager caught playing hooky by his teacher. "Just a quick stopover, Cas. We'll be in Arkansas by tomorrow."

"A stopover? Tell me, what could be more important than retrieving the medallion?" Castiel asked in a disapproving tone. "I explained its significance to you."

"It's a personal matter. Like I said, we'll have it wrapped up tomorrow and we'll be on our way." Dean didn't try to hide his impatience and dislike at being chastised.

Castiel pursed his lips, his annoyance at Dean's flippant attitude starting to show through his usually calm demeanor. "Dean," he started to say before being cut off.

"Cas, am I dreaming?" Dean asked, looking past the angel and down the row of motel doors.

"Yes, in a manner of speaking," Castiel replied impatiently, turning to see what Dean was looking at behind him.

"Well that's funny," Dean chuckled. "I figured if I had a dream about her, she'd at least be naked." He watched as Alex walked towards them, a bottle of water in her hand, wearing short cotton shorts and an oversized hooded sweatshirt. "You need to butt out of my dream, Cas," he grinned cheekily.

"You are dreaming," Cas confirmed with a tilt of his head, an interested tone to his voice. "But she is not."

"Huh?" The hunter looked at the angel in confusion. "What do you mean?" Alex was smiling as she approached. "How come she can see me if I'm not really here?"

"It is complicated," Cas started but stopped when Alex came within earshot.

"Hey," she greeted the pair with a smile as she stepped up to join them.

"Uh, hi Lex," Dean replied, wondering how to explain his pre-dawn conversation with a suited stranger outside his room. "This is Cas." He gestured towards the angel, who was still facing her. "He's a hunter friend of mine from, uh, Los Angeles. You know, the City of Angels." He grinned, amused by his own joke, then noticed Alex wasn't looking at him but was now standing in front of Castiel staring wide-eyed at him, an expression on her face that could only be described as awe.

"This is interesting," Cas said calmly as he reached out and placed his finger on the girl's forehead. Her eyes rolled back and her knees buckled at his touch and Dean had to lunge to catch her before she hit the pavement.

"What did you do that for?" he said angrily to Castiel, looking around for somewhere to put the unconscious girl in his arms down. He decided on the Impala for proximity and opened the door, sliding her into the passenger seat before turning to face Castiel again.

"What was that for?" he repeated heatedly.

Castiel turned to face Dean, an expression of amusement on his face. "She wasn't looking at Cas, your hunter friend from Los Angeles, Dean," he explained. "Or the 'holy tax accountant' that you see. She has a rare gift. She was able to perceive my true visage behind this vessel." He turned to look at Alex through the front car window. "It is unusual," he added. "Most humans who can perceive my true form are what you would call... crazy."

Dean just stared in disbelief, not sure that this was a good development. At least, not good for Alex.

"She could prove useful," Castiel stated thoughtfully.

Dean's head snapped back around to face the angel. "Oh no you don't!" he warned sternly. "She has nothing to do with all this, she's not involved. You leave her out of it."

The angel's eyes narrowed slightly and his tone became stern and somewhat foreboding. "Why can't you understand, Dean?" he asked. "This war involves _everybody_. Every man, woman, and child on this Earth will suffer endlessly if Lucifer is allowed to walk free. We must be prepared to use any weapon or tool available to us to ensure that does not happen. If she can be useful, she will be called upon to play her part. Now I'll say it again, it is imperative you retrieve that medallion."

Dean was suddenly awakening to the sound of the motel door opening and looked up from bed to see Sam entering followed by Alex, still wearing her shorts and the hoodie. Sam had two coffees in his hands and was laughing.

"Hey, you're awake," he greeted his older brother. "Guess who I found sleeping in our car this morning." He jerked his thumb towards Alex, who looked embarrassed and thoroughly confused at waking up in the Impala. "How much did you drink last night?" Sam teased her.

"Just making sure you two don't leave without me," she joked, lifting the lid off her own coffee to cool it faster. "Hey Dean, I had a dream about you last night," she added in an effort to change the subject.

Dean laughed, pulling himself out of bed. "Don't worry, Lex," he said with a cocky grin. "I have that effect on a lot of women."

She flushed slightly, annoyed that the eldest Winchester was able to get that reaction out of her. She didn't usually embarrass easily, not putting much stock in what people thought of her as they would be out of her life fairly soon anyway.

"Not that kind of dream, smartass," she clarified. "It was night time and I was outside this motel, I think getting a drink of water from the vending machine, when I saw you talking to this really hot guy out in front of your room. You introduced him…"

"Whoa, whoa," Dean interrupted with a chuckle. "You thought this guy was hot?" That was wrong on so many levels.

"Hey, it was my dream," she defended. "Do you dream about ugly women or supermodels? He was smokin' hot, okay?"

Dean raised his hands in mock defeat, gesturing for her to continue but unable to wipe the grin off his face.

"Well I realized this guy had a weird glow about him," she continued, struggling to find the right words. "Like a light from within, only it was more than a light. And I got this feeling, like a supernatural vibe-type feeling only way different and…" she waved her hand in the air to illustrate her point. "…Bigger. And not evil. Kind of scary but definitely not evil."

Sam gave Dean a subtle, questioning look. "What was he?" he asked Alex casually.

"I don't know. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was an angel, only without the feathers and halos. Well, if angels wore trench coats, that is. And if they even existed, of course, which they don't." She shrugged. "Anyway, really weird dream." She turned and headed towards the door. "I'm going to head back to my room and get dressed," she told the brothers. "Hopefully Selena will call soon."

Sam spun to Dean as soon as the door shut behind her. "Cas stop by last night?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, to tell us to get our asses back in gear and our heads back in the game. Recess is over."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC...**_

_Sorry, this was a long one with little action but I used it to introduce Alex and Josh to those readers who haven't read the first story, Stones Unturned. Medallion quest starts right up next chap. Hope you enjoyed the peace because that's about all they get. Thanks for reading!_


	3. The Impending Apocalypse Crap

**Chapter 3**** - T****he Impending Apocalypse Crap**

The call from Selena Mendoza came a few minutes after ten o'clock. Sam accompanied Alex to drop the post-dated checks off at the house while Dean restocked the rock salt and changed the oil in the Impala. It was agreed that Alex would follow the Winchesters to Loela in the Bronco and they were on the road by eleven. They grabbed a couple of adjacent motel rooms as soon as they hit town but Dean was anxious not to piss Castiel off again so they didn't waste any time in piling into the Impala and heading over to see the dead priest's son.

Alex was not impressed at being told to wait in the car at the Smit residence, but she had promised Dean she would obey his every order and didn't want him to regret his decision this early in the game. She had also noticed he turned a bit 'military' in hunting mode and when he gave a firm order, he could be a little intimidating. She watched the brothers head down the house's front walk and wondered if he was making her stay behind just for the sake of it because she didn't see how asking the priest's son for a medallion could turn dangerous. Either way, she was grateful to be here rather than alone in Texas so she kept her grumbling to herself.

"I can't believe she agreed so quickly to wait in the car," Sam laughed as he and Dean rang the doorbell.

"Part of the agreement," Dean gave him a smug grin. "She swore she'd do whatever we say, no arguments. Besides, if this guy knows about the angels and all that, I don't want her overhearing anything. She doesn't need to know about the impending apocalypse crap."

Sam wasn't sure if Dean was protecting Alex from the scary truth or didn't trust her with the information. They had told her about the family's history of protecting the medallion but not its true purpose or that the angels had asked them to find it. His musings were interrupted by the front door being opened. A young man in his very early twenties answered, looking suspiciously at the brothers.

"Can I help you?" he asked in a friendly enough tone.

"Brian Smit? We're friends of your father's," Dean offered. They had decided against the priest disguises as the kid probably knew enough about the clergy to catch them in a lie. "Can we come in?"

The young man shrugged but opened the door for them. They stepped into the house and took in their surroundings with experienced subtlety.

"Are we alone, Brian?" Sam asked. "We have a private matter to discuss with you."

Brian's eyes narrowed. "Well there's nobody else here," he said slowly.

"We'll cut to the chase then," offered Dean. "Your father was entrusted with keeping an important medallion. Now that he's d... passed on, bless his soul, we're here to ensure its safekeeping."

Brian was noticeably annoyed at the revelation. "My dad's been dead two days and you freaks are already after the so-called sacred medallion?"

Dean remained undeterred by the kid's irritation. "So you have it?"

The young man rolled his eyes. "You're as crazy as he was. Look, I don't know where the medallion is. If I did, trust me, I'd gladly hand the damned thing over. But my dad and I didn't even speak about it anymore. We haven't in years."

"Why not?" Sam asked curiously.

"Okay, look here. I don't know you guys or how you even know about the medallion because my dad didn't tell _anyone_. He was under the delusion that this family had been chosen by God to keep that piece of scrap metal safe from the Devil's followers. My grandfather sat on this thing for years, and his father before that and so on for as many generations as I can tell." Brian obviously didn't have the blind faith his father had. "Dad tried to feed me this bullshit story that it was my destiny to do the same after he was gone. Well I'm not as gullible as he was. I mean, hiding that medallion came above everything else with him. Everything!"

By 'everything', the young man was obviously referring to himself. Not in the mood for a counseling session, Dean stepped back and let Sam do the talking. His brother enjoyed this crap anyway, he justified.

Sam sighed and gave Brian his best 'compassionate' expression. "Look, I understand you don't believe in the importance of this medallion," he said. "But your father obviously did. We're not asking you to sacrifice anything or to waste any effort looking after it, but you should at least honour his beliefs and make sure it's kept safe and out of the wrong hands, just in case. We're willing to protect it but we need to find it first."

Brian looked thoughtful. "I know it's not here in the house," he said finally, shaking his head. "But I remember this one time when I was younger, my dad showed me where he used to hide it in his church. One of the wall panels on his office used to slide up and he had a secret cubby hole in behind it."

"Great," said Dean, straightening up to go.

"Well, there's one problem," Brian added. "The room's no longer my dad's office. It was converted into sleeping quarters for visiting priests years ago and Father Drumholt is staying in there now. He's filling in until they find a replacement for my dad."

"That's alright," Sam shrugged. "I'm sure he'd let you in."

The priest's son winced apologetically. "Uh, me and him don't exactly get along. He's really strict and frankly, an asshole. The truth is I haven't even been inside my father's church in over five years. You're better off trying to get in without me there."

The Winchesters decided to do just that and thanked Brian for his help before heading over to the church.

"You're not gonna make me stay in the car again, are you?" Alex asked from the back seat. "I mean, this is a church. How dangerous can it get?"

Dean was tempted to say yes just to be a dick but decided against it. After all, she had proven herself more than capable in Indiana and he didn't expect any trouble of the supernatural variety. It was decided that she would go to confession, keeping the Father occupied while the Winchesters searched his room.

"How long do you think you can keep him in there?" Dean asked her.

She laughed. "Confessing my sins? How long do you need?"

Although impressive from the outside, the church was even more stunning on the inside. It was quite large with vaulted ceilings and an upper level of balcony seats. There were four sets of stairs, two up to the balconies and two going up behind the alter. Although he had been in hundreds of churches in his life, Sam's breath caught as he stood and stared up at the intricate design in the stained glass on the front wall. It depicted an angel reaching down to a man who was on his knees with his head bent in servitude.

It was late in the day and there was nobody around except an elderly lady who was just making her way to the doors.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Sam asked her as she headed up the aisle to the exit. "Do you know where we can find Father Drumholt?"

"He's sleeping son. You'd best come back in the morning." With that she left, leaving them alone to wander around the church.

"Hello!" Dean called loudly, refusing to wait until tomorrow. If he was sleeping, then he would be in his quarters which were the very rooms they needed to search so Dean and his limited patience decided the Father wasn't going to sleep for very long. "Anyone here? Father Drumholt!"

No answer. They snooped around for a few moments. There was only one locked door and the hunters guessed this led to the office area and the sleeping quarters where the Father was currently either sleeping very soundly or intentionally ignoring them.

"Oh my God!" Alex cried from the top of one of the sets of stairs. Dean rushed up the steps two at a time to see what she had discovered and found her caressing the keys of a huge pipe organ keyboard, the pipes for which had been visible stretching to the roof from behind the altar. He grinned at her obvious glee in finding the impressive instrument.

"You want me to wake the Father up?" she said to him eagerly while checking various buttons to see that it was turned on.

"Go for it," he shrugged, chuckling at her exuberance as well as the anticipation of Sam's reaction.

She pressed one key and the church was instantly filled with a loud, clear, steady note. "Wow!" Alex cried in awe before sitting on the bench and delving into the instrumental sequence from the Animals' _House of the Rising Sun_.

Dean hooted his approval as the flowing notes of the catchy song echoed through the church, surrounding them better than any top of the line modern home theatre system ever could. As expected, Sam came rushing up the stairs behind them with a disapproving look.

"Are you guys crazy?" Sam yelled over the loud music, his classic bitchface plastered on his face. "You're gonna get us kicked out!"

Alex just threw him a cheeky grin and kept playing. Dean backhanded his brother gently in the gut, dismissing his panic. "Well," he said loudly over the music, "the father will definitely be awake now."

"Yes, that I am," came a stern voice from the top of the stairs. The music stopped instantly and Alex jumped up from the organ's bench. An elderly man with a priest's collar stood with his arms folded and a cross look on his face.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Father," Alex gushed, moving quickly over towards the old man. "Sorry, I don't know what comes over me. I feel the music and I just can't help myself, it's like a calling or something. Of course, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" she laughed sheepishly, touching the priest on the elbow and steering him away from the Winchesters.

The old man's face softened a little but Alex didn't let him get a word in. "It's such a beautiful instrument, you must be so proud to have it in your church. Listen, Father, I'm sorry for coming into your place of worship so late and all but I really need you to hear my confession."

"I'm sorry dear, it's not a good time. Why don't you come back in the morning?" Father Drumholt sounded genuinely apologetic.

"I'm afraid, it can't wait that long, Father. Please." She leaned forward and whispered something in his ear that the brothers couldn't hear. When she pulled away, there were tears in her eyes and the Father's shoulders slumped in defeat. He spoke softly, nodding his head.

"Very well, child. I will hear you now. Shall we go down?" He gestured towards the stairs.

"Oh, thank-you, thank-you." She turned to Sam and Dean and gave them a sly wink. "My friends will come back for me in half an hour; that should be long enough," she said as they all headed back downstairs.

The Winchester brothers waited until Alex and the priest were curtained into the confessional booth before heading for the locked door to search for the medallion. The residence room was bigger than they had expected and all the walls had narrow wooden panels on the lower half. Brian hadn't remembered which panel or even which wall so they had to search them all.

Dean found himself chuckling out loud as he worked.

"What?" Sam inquired, thinking he had found something.

"Chicks have a huge advantage at this game," Dean voiced his thoughts with amusement. "You think if I'd started crying the frigging Father would have given in? No way. He would have called the cops on me."

Sam nodded his agreement. "She's pretty good at the undercover thing. She thinks fast on her feet," he said. "You two are a lot alike," he added with a smirk aimed at his brother.

Dean didn't miss the look but decided to ignore it.

"You do realize this very minute she's lying to a priest so we can steal a priceless holy relic from his church," the younger hunter continued. His matchmaking efforts, however, were interrupted by Dean's triumphant cry.

The panel Dean was wrestling with suddenly slid upwards, revealing a twelve inch square hole in the stone wall behind it just as the priest's son had described. Unfortunately, the hole was empty.

Disappointed, the brothers quickly tested the rest of the panels in case there was more than one loose one but to no avail. They spent the rest of the half hour searching the room, the office, and even around the altar and the pews. Nothing.

Back in the Impala, Alex shared in their disappointment. "You mean I just lied to a priest about… I lied to a priest for nothing? I am so going to Hell. So what now?"

"I say we go back to Brian's," Sam suggested, instinctively glancing at his brother for a reaction to Alex's unknowing comment about going to Hell. It was still a touchy subject for Dean but he didn't flinch. "He has to have some other ideas about where his father could have hidden it."

The suggestion was agreed with and Dean steered the car back the way they had come less than an hour ago. Once there, Alex was ordered again to stay in the car and agreed quietly through gritted teeth, getting out to stretch her legs as the brothers headed up the walkway. She shuddered as a sudden, familiar chill passed through her brain like an intense ice cream headache. "Dean!" she called out, recognizing the feeling as an indication that there were some supernatural beings around.

The Winchesters stopped and turned to face her. "What is it?" Dean called back.

"There's something in there!" she warned sharply. "In the house!"

Both hunters instantly tensed, hands reaching for hidden weapons within their jackets. "Get in the car!" Sam yelled back at her as they ran towards the house and shouldered the locked door open.

'Something' turned out to be five demons. Sam and Dean burst in to see Brian pinned up against his living room wall, tortured and bloody but still alive. Standing before him were two men, eyes black as night as they spun to see who had crashed through the door. A third demon, a woman, was searching the room frantically, pulling out drawers and knocking books off shelves.

"Oh shit," Dean swore as two more demons entered the room and he realized they were badly outnumbered. He pulled Ruby's knife from his waistband and lunged at the closest demon, thrusting the blade deeply into her side with no hesitation. He looked up quickly and went for the next one, a lanky man in a suit.

Sam ducked a swing from a demon inhabiting a body of a large and burly man with a long moustache and threw a punch back at him, landing it squarely on his jaw. Barely flinching, the demon came at him again, landing a blow to Sam's chest that sent the hunter sprawling onto the floor behind the couch.

Dean swung a few times at the suited demon but the bastard was quick and managed to dodge Ruby's knife, sidestepping Dean's jab with a teasing grin on his face. "That all you got, Winchester?"

"Do all of you rejects know who I am? What, do they have my mugshot up in the Demon Community Outreach Center?" he quipped, distracting his opponent with the banter long enough to take a step forward and swing in from the side with the knife, sinking it into the demon's neck. Quickly pulling it out, he spun around to check on Sam and find the next demon to take out.

Sam was back on his feet and actually getting the better of the moustached demon by pouring holy water over his head while holding him with the curtain chord the hunter had somehow wrapped around his neck.

_Atta boy, Sammy!_ Dean thought, impressed. That left two demons to deal with. There was one female by the front door and the obvious leader, who was still standing calmly in front of Brian. Dean lunged at the leader but was stopped abruptly by an invisible force that slammed him back against the dining room wall, knocking the breath out of him. His arm holding the knife was immediately slammed back above his head and the weapon was knocked out of his grasp.

Sam was also hurled violently across the room and landed with his back against the wall next to Dean with a painful thud and a groan. The moustached demon was still gasping in pain, but slowly recovered and got to his feet. The woman in the floral-print dress who had been hanging back drew courage from seeing the tables turned in their favour and walked smugly into the room to stand next to him. The leader, holding one arm outstretched in front of him towards Sam and Dean, was obviously the one who had the frustrating pinning-against-the-wall power that the Winchesters regularly found so incredibly inconvenient.

"You boys really should have stayed away from this one," the leader gloated. "It's way above your pay grade." With that, he furrowed his brows and a look of intense concentration came over his face. This look coincided with agonizing pain as Dean felt himself being crushed into the wall behind him.

Dean was struggling to pull free and reach for the knife when the pressure suddenly subsided and he dropped to the ground. He looked up to see Sam standing steadily next to him, right arm outstretched towards the demon leader, who now looked as though he was retching. "No, Sam! Don't!" he shouted, fighting against his shaky legs that seemed determined to keep him from getting up. The two remaining demons scampered in fear towards the front door, disappearing outside. "Sam! Stop!" Dean pleaded.

But Sam didn't stop. The younger hunter glared without blinking as the most formidable of the demon pack was drawn out of the man's body in a cloud of grainy black smoke, billowing against the floorboards before being sucked unwillingly down through the cracks. Dean had seen his brother do this before but still hated the sight of it. The power behind this inhuman ability and its demon source terrified him. Watching his brother dispense of powerful demons like childsplay made him nauseous to the core. That wasn't his little brother standing there so calmly, a cold look on his face. That was something else.

Then the black smoke was gone, the possessed man's body dropped to the ground, eyes bulging wide and lifeless, and Dean's little brother was back. Sam looked quickly over at Dean to make sure he was okay but avoided further eye contact and didn't speak to him. Instead the younger hunter made his way swiftly over to Brian, who had fallen to the floor in a crumpled, bloody heap as soon as Sam had stepped off the wall and taken on the leader.

Dean gathered his wits and decided this was not the time for this argument. He scooped up Ruby's knife and checked for pulses on the two people he had killed with it. Not surprisingly, there weren't any. He didn't have the time or the spare compassion for remorse right now. He looked over toward his brother, who was placing a couch throw cushion under Brian's head. There was a noise at the front door and Dean spun towards it, knife ready.

Alex stood wide-eyed in the doorway, Sam's Ithica Pump shotgun in her hand. A look of immense relief crossed her face when she saw Dean and Sam, both apparently still alive with the only real sign of injury a trickle of blood running down the side of Sam's face.

"I thought you promised you would stay in the car," Dean greeted her, inwardly feeling guilty about not thinking to check on her when the two demons had run out of the house. He had been preoccupied with the horror of seeing Sam using his abilities again, but that wasn't an acceptable excuse. After all, he'd promised her brother he'd watch out for her.

"Well that was when the demons were still in here; before the suckers came running outside. I thought they'd killed you guys!" she answered him, stepping carefully inside and grimacing at the sight of three dead bodies on the floor. "Oh my God," she breathed. "Did they kill all these people?"

"Not exactly," Dean explained, moving over to help Sam with Brian. "These people were the demons. Along with the two that got away."

Brian let out a groan and Alex came over to join the brothers. "I take it he's not one?" she whispered.

"No," Sam replied. "This is Brian, the priest's son. Call 911, he might still make it."

Brian seemed to be struggling to say something. Dean applied pressure to the bloody wound on the young man's chest, which seemed to help steady his breathing.

"It's true," Brian gasped faintly. "It's all true. Dad was…right."

"Hey, take it easy," Sam said in a soothing voice. "Brian, did the demons get the medallion?"

Brian coughed and spots of blood splattered onto his chest. After a few seconds, he got control of his breathing again and shook his head. "No," he whispered through a gargle of blood. "Don't let them…get it. You can't. Please. You have to keep it s…s...safe."

"Do they know where it is?" Dean asked, feeling terrible for the young man but knowing they urgently needed some answers before he died. Dean was fairly certain he had much more time, with or without the paramedics.

Brian shook his head again, looking at Dean. "I didn't tell them anything," he managed.

"It wasn't at the church, Brian," he pressed. "Do you have any idea where it could be?"

"Try my fa…my father's friend, Bruno. Bruno…Richter. In Memphis." Another cough. "Dad t-trusted him. He would have g-given it…to him. Don't, don't….." he continued talking but his words weren't audible. Dean leaned over and put his ear to the kid's mouth, listening, his hands still pressing firmly on his wounded chest. Brian spoke a few last words then stopped moving altogether. Dean pulled his face away and felt for a pulse.

"He's dead," he sighed, sitting back on his heels, closing his eyes for a brief second.

"We have to go," Sam announced, swallowing his disappointment. "The paramedics are on their way."

The three moved quickly back to the Impala and drove away, passing the approaching ambulance with sirens wailing at the end of the street.

Dean shook his head and turned to Sam. "He was wrong," he said angrily, though his anger was not directed at his brother. "Brian was worthy. That kid died bravely. He didn't sell out."

"Who was wrong?" Sam didn't quite follow what Dean was saying.

Dean gritted his teeth but, despite his annoyance at Castiel, remembered Alex was in the back seat and was careful not to mention angels. "The dick of a hunter who put us onto this gig. He said Brian didn't have the stuff for the job."

"Well, Dean," Sam argued, surprising himself by taking Castiel's side. "Maybe the kid had the heart, but he really didn't have the skills or the know-how."

"And what skills would that be, huh Sam?" Dean shot at his brother, letting him know he wasn't off the hook and they were still going to have the argument.

Sam huffed but didn't answer. He glanced back at Alex, noticing she was unusually quiet. She was still a little pale and sat staring out the window at the passing trees, seemingly oblivious to the conversation in the front seat. She was evidently not yet able to be quite as nonchalant about seeing people die as the Winchesters had become, Sam thought ruefully. _When exactly had that happened, anyway?_

Sam couldn't understand his brother's side of the argument. The same old tired argument about Sam's abilities that they had been having for months now. How could Dean justify using the knife and killing the host body when there was a harmless alternative available? What other choice did Sam have today? The demon was about to kill them both! He had tried to deal with the circumstances without resorting to using his abilities, even so far as to let the demon mind-throw him across the room. But then the sonofabitch had started hurting Dean, crushing him into the wall. Would Dean seriously prefer they both be dead than Sam use his powers just once? What if Bobby's life was at stake? Would he sit by and watch Bobby die rather than let Sam fight back with the best weapon they had? There was just no logic to Dean's thinking. It was ruled by an irrational fear and prejudice. And a lack of faith. A lack of faith in Sam that he could control these abilities. Sam found himself once again angered and frustrated by Dean's inability to see reason.

They pulled back into the motel and pulled up next to the Bronco. Dean turned off the Chevy's engine and got out quickly. "I'm gonna go get you some ice," he called over to Sam, indicating the still bleeding wound on the younger hunter's head before walking away stiffly.

Sam sighed, turning his attention to Alex, who was still looking slightly pale as she got out of the car. "You doin' okay?" he asked her.

She looked up and smiled an almost convincing smile at him. "Yeah, it's just…not a good day," she said, closing the rear Impala door. She looked up at Sam with a shrug. "Four people. Four people who had mothers and brothers and maybe even kids. And that Brian was only a kid himself. I know they were demons, but they were people first." She slumped her shoulders and sighed. "Just kinda sucks is all," she added quietly.

Sam came around the car and put his arm around her shoulders. "Hey," he said in an effort to comfort her. "You're right, today was a bad day. We lost today, if you look at it that way. But hopefully tomorrow we'll win and maybe save someone else. As much as I would like to, we can't win every time. There's always going to be someone we can't save. The bad guys are going to score every once in a while. All we can do is keep trying." Sam believed deeply in the words he was saying as he had struggled with the disappointment and despair of not being able to save everyone his entire hunting life.

"I know," Alex agreed, leaning slightly into the giant hunter for support and reassurance as they walked towards their motel room doors. "I just wish it didn't suck as much for the unfortunate people that get dragged into these things." As she moved away, pulling out the key to her door, she turned back towards him. "And Sam," she added with a smile, "We didn't really lose today. If you or Dean had been killed, then we would have lost. We just didn't manage to get a shut-out is all."

Sam laughed at her continuation of his sports reference and her optimistic perspective. "Come on over when you're ready," he told her before moving on to the next door down, the room he shared with Dean, bracing himself for the argument that would inevitably occur when his brother returned with the ice.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC...**_


	4. There's Always Another Choice, Sam

**Chapter 4**** – There's Always Another Choice, Sam **

Alex flicked on the clock radio in her room and headed for the bathroom to wash her face. The splash of cold water usually helped clear her mind. _God she wished her brother was here! _Josh had always been her entire emotional support system and, even if she didn't talk to him about something that was bothering her, having him there was always reassuring. Seeing four dead people all bloody and reeking of violence had been disturbing. She had seen dead people before, of course, since that couldn't really be avoided when hunting or being hunted by the supernatural, but four at one time was just a little extra unpleasant.

She heard her room door open and reached for the towel to dry her face. "Sam?" she called, coming out of the bathroom. "That you?"

It wasn't Sam. It was a young woman about Alex's age with an unfriendly look on her face. She had closed the motel door behind her and now stood in the center of the room.

"Who are you?" Alex asked, reaching for the bag on her bed that held her weapons but the girl was fast and grabbed her arm before she could reach it, twisting it around and slamming Alex against the wall.

"I was just going to ask you the same thing," the girl snarled. She had a really strong grip. _Really_ strong. Far too strong to be human, Alex realized. One of the demons from Brian's house? They could switch bodies anytime and must have followed the Impala back to the motel.

Despite being pinned against the wall, Alex managed to slam her boot into the suspected-demon's knee. Caught off guard, its grip loosened slightly and Alex took immediate advantage, twisting around, kicking furiously, and throwing a couple of quick punches. She managed to break free and ducked away from the demon, making a run for the door since the bag of weapons was behind the bitch and out of reach. But the demon was again too quick and caught up with her halfway to the door, laying a punch into her stomach that sent her flying into the wall with a loud thud. She felt the gyprock crumble behind her but couldn't get a cry out before a strong arm was pressed against her throat, a small shoulder made of steel digging into her collarbone, painfully but effectively pinning her to the wall once more.

"Who are you?!" the demon demanded again. "What are you?! And what do you want with Sam Winchester?"

_Sam Winchester?_ Alex was confused. "Get off me, bitch!" she grunted, trying in vain to break free again.

Suddenly the door flew open with a crash and Sam's giant silhouette appeared in the doorway, raised gun in hand.

"Ruby?" he yelled, lowering the gun. "Ruby! Stop! What are you doing?"

The demon's grip didn't ease up. "She's not what you think, Sam," she said without taking her eyes off the blonde.

"Ruby! Let her go. Now!" Sam ordered sternly, moving into the room.

Finally, Ruby let go and took a step backwards. Alex gulped in a large breath of air and immediately aimed a punch at the brunette, landing it right in the demon's face with a satisfying smack.

With a furious cry, Ruby shoved back at Alex, knocking her back a few feet into the cheap motel table. Alex leapt back up quickly but Sam was already between them, holding one arm out in each direction. "Please, stop! Both of you. Stop!"

Alex stopped, bewildered by the fact that the demon seemed to be obeying Sam's orders and backing down also. Sam stayed where he was for a few seconds, waiting to be sure there was going to be no more fighting. That was when Dean appeared in the doorway holding a bag of ice.

"What the Hell's going on?" he asked, coming into the room. "Ruby, what are you doing here?" He didn't look impressed. As Sam lowered his arms, Dean took note of the tense situation. "Dude, did I just miss a catfight?" he asked his brother, sounding genuinely disappointed.

Sam rolled his eyes with an impatient huff. Alex wasn't sure who this chick was, but it seemed obvious the brothers weren't threatened by her.

"You know this bitch?" she spat, relaxing slightly but keeping a wary eye on Ruby.

"Well, I'm telling you," Ruby warned them, "you _don't_ know her!" She glared at Alex. "She's not what you think."

Dean snorted, moving surreptitiously in front of Alex in case Ruby got any ideas. "So what is she then Ruby?" he sneered. Apparently, there was no love lost between these two.

"I don't know," Ruby admitted. "But trust me, I can sense it. She's different. I felt it when she and Sam arrived."

"Sam, get your girlfriend in line," Dean snapped at his brother impatiently. "And get her out of here."

Sam apparently agreed. "Ruby," he barked at the petite brunette. "Let's go."

Arms folded across her chest, the demon obeyed but didn't drop any of her cocky attitude as she walked out of the room, followed closely by Sam.

When the door closed behind them, Alex turned to Dean, a questioning look on her face. "I'm confused," she admitted, waiting for the hunter to explain why they were apparently friends with a demon.

Dean shook his head, obviously not pleased to have Ruby around. "Ruby's a demon," he admitted, taking a seat on the end of one of the beds.

"I kind of figured that when all ninety-five pounds of her managed to throw me clear across the room," Alex snapped, still worked up.

Dean frowned his disapproval. He hadn't realized Ruby had full-on attacked the blonde. "Well, she's not like most demons," he continued. "She's kinda maybe sorta on our side. She has saved my ass before, and Sam's, and she helps us out on occasion."

"Why?"

Dean had known that question was coming. "To be honest, I don't know."

"Do you trust her?"

"I don't know," he repeated the answer. "But so far she's proved herself more than once. So for now, I guess, yes. To a certain degree."

"And how about the poor girl she's possessing?"

"Dead," Dean answered. "Before Ruby came along. Not her doing."

Alex looked thoughtful. "So you figure she sensed my inner freak and thought I was some kind of demon after you two?"

Dean smiled. "For starters, you're not a freak. But I'm guessing yes. She is kind of protective of Sam. Well, in some ways. Did you sense her coming?"

"No," Alex admitted.

Dean looked up sharply. "So Ruby doesn't _feel_ like a demon to you?" he asked, not sure what the implications of that were. Maybe Ruby was different after all. Maybe her motives weren't suspect.

Alex shrugged. "My radar's not very reliable," she said. "I would say I sense maybe half the evil creeps I come across. As for the other half... nada. Like today, I had no idea there were five demons in that house. I thought there was one, maybe two."

"Oh," Dean said, disappointed. He was still not entirely sure what to make of Ruby and had hoped this had been some kind of evidence in her favour. He hated what she had taught Sam to do but couldn't ignore the fact she had helped them with the witches then again with Anna.

"Well," Alex said, shrugging her shoulders as she perched on the end of the bed next to the hunter, rubbing her bruised shoulder. "I suppose she'd be handy to have around if you need to break in anywhere. She could just black-smoke her ass through the keyhole."

Dean had to laugh. "You're definitely a glass half full type, aren't you?"

She grinned at his comment and gave him a wink. "Today's your lucky day, Dean. I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. Some rarely shared wisdom I like to call the Joshua Brenton Philosophy of Life."

"Oooh, really?" Dean rolled his eyes in jest. "Please, I'm on the edge of my seat."

Alex ignored his sarcasm. "Well, it goes like this," she continued with a smile. "You can't change the past. You can't predict the future and you really can't do much about steering it in your favour anyway so," she finished, "if your present doesn't entirely suck, then life is good. No worries."

"Hakuna Matata, huh?"

"Oh you are so gonna let me get out of the car at our next stop or I'm telling your brother you just quoted Disney," Alex threatened with a grin.

"Tell my brother and it'll be the last thing you ever do," the smiling man threatened back, looping his elbow around her neck in a mock chokehold.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Sam was losing patience with Ruby. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing," she snapped. "I tell you over half the seals are broken and you take off again! I thought we were going to work on your abilities, go after Lillith, end this thing."

Sam sighed with exasperation. "We are. We will. Look, Ruby, it's not a one battle war. I've got other things to take care of, okay?" Sam remembered Castiel's request that this mission stay between the Winchesters. They had both assumed he had meant not to tell Ruby. Sam wasn't going to disobey any more of the angel's orders than he had to.

"Like what?" she questioned. "What are you doing here... in Arkansas?"

"You know what?" Sam went on the offensive. "I don't have to tell you. God knows, you keep enough secrets from me. So just trust me on this one and leave. Now. Go away. I'll call you when I need you."

"What about Goldilocks?" Ruby pressed. "I'm telling you Sam, she's not normal. Demons can sense other demons. I'll admit, she's different from a demon, but she's not ordinary human. She could be dangerous."

Sam drew on his deepest and last reserves of patience. "I know about her sensitivity, Ruby. I assure you, it's harmless. She's harmless."

"Yeah," Ruby sneered, "so harmless she's got you wrapped. I saw you two earlier, on your way in."

"Oh dear God," Sam groaned. "Ruby, tell me you're not jealous. You and me, we are _not_ a couple. Tell me you didn't just attack a girl because you think I like her."

Ruby scoffed. "Get control of that ego, Sam. Just promise me you'll keep your eye on her."

"Okay, I'll watch my back. Just leave, please."

"Fine." She turned stiffly to walk away.

"And Ruby," he called after her, "FYI, I'm pretty sure she's sweet on my brother."

"Well now even I feel sorry for her," Ruby called over her shoulder without turning around.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Pizza was ordered and the three watched highlights from the day's Presidential Inauguration events on the TV in the Winchester's motel room, the job being discussed during the ad breaks. It was decided they would go to see Bruno Richter first thing in the morning in hopes he knew something about the medallion's whereabouts.

The Winchesters were not in the greatest mood for socializing and Alex could tell there was some unspoken argument brewing between them. She decided to turn in early and headed back to her room to give them a chance to talk. She spread a line of salt across her doorway and on her windowsill to ensure she didn't get another visit from Ruby during the night, despite Sam's assurances that it wasn't necessary. It became quickly apparent that the impending Winchester heart-to-heart was not the talking kind of argument when raised voices floated through the broken wall between the two rooms where Ruby had thrown her into the gyprock.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Dean!" Sam's voice floated through the crack. "That I'm sorry I saved our asses today? Well I'm not!"

Feeling guilty about invading their privacy, even if it was involuntary, Alex moved over to the clock radio and bent to switch it on to block out the sound of the brothers yelling, but Dean's shouted reply piqued her curiosity and she hesitated.

"You attacked a demon _with your mind_, Sam! Again! I'd rather not be saved if costs you your humanity!"

"You think by using my powers against demons I'm gonna turn into one? Have a little faith in me Dean!" Sam sounded more hurt than angry. "I told you I won't use these psychic powers unless I have to, and today, I had to!"

She had marveled at how the Winchesters had managed to kill three demons and chase two more off today with just one knife, albeit a demon-killing knife. It was becoming quickly apparent they had more than that knife for weaponry. They had Sam. So he didn't just have death visions. The demon blood that had been dropped into his mouth as a baby had obviously given him other powers... powers that Dean didn't approve of.

She listened guiltily as Sam continued his defense. "Look, Dean, I don't want to have this same old argument again and again. How many times do I have to explain? You were dead. I watched you die. You were ripped to shreds in front of my eyes and dragged to Hell and it was all my fault."

Her heart skipped a beat and she frowned in confusion. What did Sam mean by Dean was dead? That was impossible.

Sam was still talking. "I couldn't get you back so I decided to go after the bitch who put you in Hell to begin with and to do that I needed something more than Ruby's knife. This weapon is right here inside of me. You can't expect me not to react and use it when I have no other choice."

"There's always another choice, Sam," were the last words she heard the elder Winchester speak before she flicked the switch on the radio, her guilt of eavesdropping getting the best of her.

Was Dean a ghost? Or a demon like Ruby? No, he was a good guy, of that she was certain. He couldn't possibly be a demon. And he certainly felt real. Of all the possible ways she had heard of people coming back from the dead, none were very pleasant. Surely he wasn't a revenant or some kind of zombie?

No, no zombie could look that good, she thought with a chuckle.

Her musings were interrupted by a knock on the door. She grabbed a sawed off shotgun filled with rock salt rounds, a trick she had learned from the Winchesters last year in Indiana, and moved to the door, peeking cautiously through the eyehole. To her surprise, Sam and Dean were standing outside.

She opened the door, lowering the gun and standing aside to let them in. Sam threw her a slightly offended look as he stepped over the salt line she had laid down despite his assurances.

"What?" she shrugged. "A girl can never be too careful."

"So," Dean led, giving her a questioning look. "The walls in this place are pretty thin, huh?"

Realizing she was busted for eavesdropping she shrugged apologetically. How had they known?

"We heard your music plain as day through the wall," he explained as if reading her mind, glancing towards the destroyed gyprock on her side. "We never noticed before but the gyprock's cracked through on our side too behind the dresser mirror," he added.

"Hey, I decided to give you some privacy," she said sheepishly. "That's why I turned on the music."

"How much did you hear?" Dean asked, really annoyed at himself for losing his temper, carelessly raising his voice, and temporarily forgetting one of John Winchester's cardinal rules. The one about secrecy.

"Uh, I know Sam can take out demons with his psychic thing," she admitted. "Which I think is totally cool, by the way," she threw Sam an impressed nod. He gave her a half-hearted smile in return.

"What else?" Dean pushed, hoping that was all.

"Well," she said more hesitantly. "I heard him say you were dead. That you were ripped to shreds and dragged…" she stopped suddenly, the impact of the next words finally hitting her. "…to Hell," she finished, unable to keep the shock from her face. He hadn't only been dead, he'd been in Hell.

Dean slumped his shoulders with a sigh and looked away. He didn't want to talk about Hell. Now that another person knew it was a matter of time before she asked him the inevitable question. _What was it like?_ Sam had asked him. Bobby had asked him. Ellen had asked him. Even Pamela had asked him on the long car ride from her place to Bobby's when she had come to help Anna. Everybody was always so damn curious about Hell. So damn eager for him to talk about it.

"Last year," Alex said, thinking aloud. "Sam said you were on a different hunt for four months. You weren't."

Sam answered for his brother. "No, he wasn't."

"How did you get out?" she asked, unable to contain her curiosity. "And is that the same body you had before you died?" She looked amused. "That would explain why you two don't really look that much alike."

Dean's mood lightened slightly. "Getting out may be a story for another time," he dismissed in a vague answer to her first question before jumping on her second. "And yes, of course this is my original body. I was naturally blessed with these good looks; there's no way I would give this up."

Alex laughed, deciding to dial back on the inquisition. Understandably so, it was obviously an uncomfortable subject for Dean and she was the last person that was going to make someone talk about feelings they didn't want to share.

"Look, I'm really sorry guys," she apologized. "I didn't really mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened."

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure we can trust you to keep all of this to yourself," Sam smiled.

Alex snorted. "Who am I gonna tell?"

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Sam was up before his brother the next morning and decided to go on a Java run. A strong, black coffee usually made Dean's winning morning personality slightly more bearable. The young hunter bumped into Alex on his way back to the room as she finished her morning jog. He told her he'd wake up Dean and she agreed to be ready to go in a half hour.

Dean was awake when he returned to the room but the bribe of coffee did little to ease the tension between them. They had not spoken about the incident at Brian's house since their interrupted argument last night. By the time the three hit the road in the Impala, Dean's only words to Sam had been "_'That my coffee?'_..._'Dude, did you put sugar in this?'_... and _'Uck, you been eatin' burritos again? Put a cork in it, man!'"_

Alex would have to have been completely stoned to miss the tense air pulsating between the brothers. She figured it would dissipate once they got on the road, but not a word was spoken for the first fifteen minutes of the drive. She finally decided to break the silence.

"So, Sam. You can kill demons with your mind, huh?" she blurted, cursing herself immediately for her poor choice of subjects.

"Well, to be more accurate, I can't actually kill them," he answered with a quick, almost ashamed look at his brother, who remained silent. "I can pull them out of the bodies they're possessing and send them back to Hell. And Dean doesn't think it's so cool."

"Yeah, I kinda got that. What's the deal, Dean? Why isn't it a good thing?" Alex asked, not sure if it was a wise idea to bring the subject out into the open but figured the tension between the brothers wasn't going to end until they had resolved the issue. "He's getting rid of the bad guys."

"It's a demon power, remember?" Dean replied, his answer directed more at Sam than Alex. "I just don't think he should be using it. It can't be without consequences."

"It may be a demon power," Alex offered, taking Sam's side, "but it isn't a demon using it. It's Sam." She sat forward, resting her chin on folded arms across the back of the front seat of the Impala between the brothers. "Maybe it's like the Force."

"The Force?" Dean said sarcastically, trying to prevent his lips curling up in a smile at the Star Wars reference. Sam was gonna eat this one up.

"Yeah," she continued. "Luke and Vader both use the Force to be Jedi's. Luke uses it for good and Vader uses it for bad. Simple. Sam's like Luke."

"And demons are a bunch of Darth Vaders?" Dean scorned. "That's your argument?"

Alex chuckled with a slight blush. "Well, it sounded more convincing in my head. But my point is still valid. You trust Sam, don't you? It doesn't really matter what he _can_ do, just what he does do."

"Thank-you Alex!" Sam nodded, giving Dean a smug look. "Well said."

"Okay, _Luke_," Dean fired his brother a warning look. "Even if you get Han Solo over here to agree, which you won't, don't forget that Yoda and all the other Master Jedi's don't think you should use _'the Force_' either!"

Sam knew Dean was referring to Castiel and the other angels and, even more frighteningly, possibly God himself. He tensed and turned away to look at the dull Arkansas scenery zipping past his window. He couldn't argue that point.

Alex noticed Sam huff and stiffen up. Realizing there was more to this argument than she knew and regretting bringing the subject up, she wisely decided to butt out and change the subject. The definitive opening guitar chords of Steppenwolf's _Born to be Wild_ suddenly soared out of the Chevy's speakers and she jumped at the fortuitous chance to loosen the tension. Leaning forward over the seat, she turned the volume knob, cranking it full up.

Dean's natural reflex was to slap at any hand touching his baby's radio controls while he was driving. Sam knew better than to even try. Alex's sideways grin at him, however, persuaded him to refrain from doing so and he decided to let her have her way. She cheered as the gritty guitar sound filled the car.

"_Get your motor runnin'_," she sang along loudly from the back seat. "_Head out on the highway…_"

She leaned forward and slapped Dean's shoulder. "Come on, both of you. I know you want to! _And whatever comes our way! Yeah darlin' gonna make it happen!"_

"_Take the world in a love embrace!…_" Dean joined in, giving Sam a grin and a shrug, agreeing to drop the argument for the time being.

"_Fire all of your guns at once…"_

Sam laughed at the singing pair in the car with him, shaking his head. He had sat next to Dean singing along with the radio hundreds of times in his life and usually just ignored it, lost in his own thoughts. But Alex was more persistent than his brother usually was and wasn't letting him sit this one out.

"Come on Sam! You too!" she urged, wrapping her arm around his neck from behind and squeezing lightly in mock threat.

"_I like smoke and lightning…Heavy metal thunder…Racin' with the wind…And the feelin' that I'm under…_" Dean and Alex sang loudly together.

Now she was mussing up Sam's hair. Making a half-hazard attempt to tidy his disheveled mop, he finally gave in and joined the song, "_Yeah darlin' gonna make it happen…Take the world in a love embrace…Fire all of your guns at once and…Explode into space…_"

The three sang, or rather shouted, the lyrics at full volume for the rest of the song, grinning at each other in their sheepish stupidity and temporarily erasing the memories of the previous argument, effectively lifting their spirits past it. The conversation afterwards slid onto the topic of humorous instances during past hunts and they were still laughing at a wild story Alex was recounting of the time a witch cast a love spell on Josh when they pulled up at Bruno's house.

"Am I relegated to the car again Boss or do I get to come in this time?" Alex asked Dean, hoping he'd let her join them.

"Uh, not this time, Sunshine," he said apologetically, getting out of the car and moving to the trunk to arm up before going inside. He decided to take half the arsenal this time, determined not to get caught by surprise again and give Sam another excuse to use his disturbing powers.

Alex rolled her eyes but didn't argue, flopping herself back into the Impala's comfortable back seat with a sigh.

Sam chuckled as they walked up the path to the house. "Dude, what's with you making Alex stay in the car again? She already knows more than anybody else except maybe Bobby."

Dean ran his hand over his mouth and his expression hardened. "I just don't want her to find out about angels." Cas's comment about Alex potentially being of some use was still eating at him.

"And what, you think Cas is going to show up here?" Sam pointed out the unlikelihood. "Besides, she's already seen him. And him her."

"Yeah well," Dean glanced back at the car as they stepped up onto the doorstep, "They're a little too quick to claim collateral damage for my liking. Let's just keep her away from them, 'kay?" He knocked loudly on the door without waiting for Sam to reply.

A portly man in his early fifties answered the door wearing paint-smeared coveralls and an Oakland A's ball cap. He looked curiously at the hunters but didn't speak, choosing instead to greet them with a 'who are you?' grunt.

"Bruno Richter?" asked Dean.

"Yeah," the man replied gruffly. "Who's askin'?"

"Uh, we're here about Father Smit," Sam replied. "May we come in?"

A flash of sadness crossed the man's face when Smit was mentioned and he shrugged. "Sure, why not?" He stepped into the living room followed by Sam and Dean. "Wipe your feet!" he scolded, pointing to the large, straw doormat. Both brothers stopped short and quickly obeyed like chastised schoolchildren.

"Now what can I do for you gentlemen?" the older man pressed. "I'd like to get back to my work."

"You, uh, doing some painting Mr. Richter?" Sam asked politely, not yet sure how to bring up the subject of the medallion.

The man gave the tall hunter an impatient sigh. "Yeah, I'm repainting the den. What of it?"

"Mr. Richter, we won't keep you long," Dean promised. "I'm Dean, this is my brother Sam. We have some common interests with the late Father Smit. His son, Brian, pointed us in your direction. He thought maybe you could help us."

Bruno's head lifted at the mention of the priest's son. "Brian? How's he doin'? I've been meaning to go see the kid but I figured I'd give him a few days first. After all, Felix only died on Friday."

The hunters exchanged glances, not sure if they should tell Bruno about Brian's deceased status.

Dean decided to be upfront. "Uh, I'm very sorry to have to tell you this, Mr. Richter, but Brian was killed yesterday."

The man gasped and turned quickly away. Sam and Dean stood patiently, allowing him a few moments of grief.

"How?" Bruno demanded hoarsely when he turned back around, having regained his composure.

"Well, we think some very bad, uh, people were after his father's medallion," Dean supplied, watching closely for the reaction to the mention of the relic.

Both hunters noticed the look of recognition that flashed across the older man's face, followed quickly by looks of surprise and suspicion, in that order.

"Mr. Richter, we know Father Smit was entrusted to guard the medallion," Sam said, coming clean. "Brian explained that he hadn't believed in the importance of his father's task. I find it unlikely Smit would have not made some other arrangements for the medallion to be taken care of in the event of his death. Brian thought he may have come to you."

"How do you know all this?" Bruno eyed the hunters suspiciously. "It's true Brian always thought the medallion was just some piece of crap some ancestor had lifted from some rich Earl or something, but he never would have betrayed his father's trust."

"He didn't," Dean assured him. "In fact, his father would have been proud. He died bravely and he died protecting the medallion."

Bruno studied Dean carefully. "You were there when he died?" he asked finally.

"Yes."

"These people that killed him, were they…" Bruno hesitated. "Normal?"

"Mr. Richter, are you asking us if they were human?" Sam asked shrewdly.

"Well, yeah," Bruno shrugged.

"No," Dean said. "They were demons."

Bruno's eyebrows went up and he let out a slow whistle. "So Old Smitty was right," he breathed. "About the demons, the angels, the apocalypse. Everything is true."

"Angels?" Dean asked.

"Apocalypse?" Sam asked. Just how much had Felix Smit known?

"Yeah, an angel appeared to an ancestor of Felix's about two thousand years ago and gave him the medallion. Told him to keep it safe, that all of mankind depended on it being kept hidden and out of the hands of those who serve Lucifer or it could bring about the apocalypse. It was being entrusted to him and his descendants after him. It's been in his family for more generations than he could count. They've kept this secret all this time but Brian was the last of their family." Bruno narrowed his eyes suddenly at the Winchesters. "What does a demon look like?" he demanded.

"Like you or me only their eyes can turn black," Sam answered patiently. "They possess people."

"Cristo!" Bruno said loudly, looking quickly back and forth between the brothers for a reaction.

Dean snorted. "We're not demons," he assured the older man.

"Well, I don't know that for sure do I?"

"Okay, douse us with holy water, perform an exorcism, throw salt at us, whatever you need to do to prove we're not demons," Dean groused. "But be quick about it, we don't have all day here. The demons found Brian, it's probably a matter of time before they find you too."

"Don't think I won't," Bruno warned. "I have seen a demon before. And I exorcised him, sent him right back to Hell. Scariest friggin' thing I ever saw, but don't you doubt I can do it again." He moved over to a closet near the hall and rummaged around inside for a few minutes, coming out with a silver flask. Dean rolled his eyes but stood still as the man splashed the water from the flask at him, studied him closely, then did the same to Sam.

"Are you happy now?" Dean demanded, wiping a sleeve across the water on his face, trying to hide his annoyance. This guy knew enough to get himself in trouble, but definitely not enough to survive the demon posse that would eventually come for him. Had he really managed a successful exorcism before? Dean doubted it.

Seemingly satisfied, Bruno put the flask down. "So why are you here anyway?" he asked. "To warn me about the demons that killed Brian?"

"No. We're here to take over the safekeeping of the medallion," Sam replied.

"Oh no. I don't think so." Bruno folded his arms across his chest. "Felix entrusted me with it. I can keep it safe."

"Look old man," Dean was getting frustrated. "We've been hunting demons and all sorts of other evil pricks our entire lives. We're better equipped and better suited for this job. You need to hand it over. Then you need to get yourself out of town and never look back."

The man didn't seem to get offended but instead looked thoughtful. "How did you know about the medallion?" he asked.

"Let's just say it's been made the responsibility of our family now," Sam answered.

"The angels sent you?" The older man's voice couldn't hide his excitement at the prospect.

"Are you gonna give us the medallion or not?" Dean pressed, not answering.

Bruno still looked unconvinced. "Listen, Smitty told me everything. If you really were meant to take the medallion, then you must have been told something that the demons wouldn't know. Something to convince me to give it to you. If I even have it, that is."

Sam too was getting frustrated. How were they to convince this guy they were the good guys? They didn't know anything about the medallion except it could somehow be used to open another seal. "Look," he sighed. "Castiel's somewhat stingy with background information. He just told us to find it and keep it safe."

"Castiel?" Bruno's eyes lit up and he smiled at Sam. "The angel?"

Sam frowned. "Yeah, how did you know that?"

"Castiel is the angel that appeared to Smitty's ancestor hundreds of years ago."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, both trying to imagine Castiel walking the earth two thousand years ago. Bruno told them to wait and went into the adjacent room which appeared to be the den being painted. The hunters hoped it was to retrieve the medallion.

"Didn't dudes wear tights back then?" Dean asked Sam quietly, a smile forming on his lips.

Sam gave a little snort of amusement picturing Castiel, or at least the 'vessel' he was currently using, walking around in some sort of tunic with brightly coloured tights. "I think they wore togas."

Dean snickered before focusing back on the task at hand. "So, Mr. Richter," he called out from the foyer where they still stood. "You really exorcise a demon?"

"Sure did!" the man called back amid the sound of hammering. "Old Smitty heard about it and came to see me to ask questions. That was about fifteen years ago. We've been friends ever since." Now Sam and Dean could hear the sound of splintering wood. "He came to me when he found out he had cancer and realized Brian wasn't willing to look after the medallion." A few seconds later, Bruno reappeared carrying a metal box about the size of a jewellery box in his hands.

"I had it in this fireproof box and was plastering it into the wall of the den to hide it," the older man explained sheepishly.

"Hence the new paint job," Sam surmised.

Bruno nodded and handed him the box in a rather ceremonious manner. Sam took it carefully, reaching somewhat nervously to open it.

Now that it was in Winchester hands, Dean turned to Bruno, a slightly reproachful look on his face. "So, you're just handing it over? No offense, and I assure you you're doing the right thing, but if this really is some kind of sacred relic, don't you think you made that just a little too easy?"

Sam gave the elder Winchester a disapproving look. '_What does it matter?_' his raised eyebrows silently asked his brother. _'Don't be a dick,' _he said with no words. He had the box opened and was unwrapping the cloth from the small object within.

Bruno didn't seem offended by Dean's remark and he dismissively waved his hand in the air. "Well, to be honest, I was kind of expecting you. After all, the angel told Felix that when the time came his family could no longer keep the medallion safe, another family would be sent to take over the responsibility. You two are brothers so it makes sense. Besides, the medallion itself has a cloaking spell and the box has a protection spell on it," he added with a wink. "Had your brother here been a demon, it would have turned him to dust when he opened it."

Dean's heart lurched at Bruno's last confession. Of course Sam wasn't a demon, but he did have demon blood in him. Some spells may not distinguish between the two. In Indiana, when the Winchesters had taken on a Celtic God with the help of the Brentons, Sam had nearly been killed by a spell gone wrong for that very reason. Dean shuddered at the memory of his brother, unconscious and bleeding in his arms only a few months before. They had been lucky this time.

Sam gave a low whistle as he pulled back the last layer of cloth to reveal a small, roundish gold medallion with a bright green emerald in the center about the size of a large grape or a small golf ball. There were markings all around the perimeter of both sides, symbols and words Sam had never seen before. Dean came over to have a peek at it before Sam began wrapping it up again.

"Are you a hunter, Mr. Richter?" Sam asked curiously.

"A hunter?" Bruno raised his eyebrows. "A hunter of what?"

"Ah, never mind," Sam smiled, realizing Bruno's one exorcism was probably his only battle against the supernatural. He had never become obsessed and fallen into the trap that was the life of a hunter like so many others had, John Winchester included.

"Like we said before, you should really disappear," Dean warned. "The demons will eventually find you if you stay here."

Bruno looked doubtful. "I can't just up and leave," he argued. "I have family, friends."

"If you want to keep them safe, you have to. At least until this is all over." Dean felt sorry to be the bearer of this difficult news, but this time his conscience was clean. It had been Felix who had involved Bruno, not the Winchesters. "Please," he added.

The hunters spent the next few minutes convincing Bruno to take off and disappear for a while, finally succeeding by describing what had happened to Brian. As they made their way to the door to leave, a thought occurred to Dean and he turned back to the older man.

"Brian said something right before he died," he said. "He said 'don't let them kill the angels'. Any idea what he meant by that?" Sam jerked his head up at his brother's question. Dean hadn't mentioned this before. Then again, they hadn't really been on good speaking terms since the incident. Must have been what the dying man had whispered into Dean's ear.

Bruno nodded somberly. "Well, the medallion of course," he answered. In response to the confused looks on both the hunters' faces, he continued. "The medallion's purpose is to kill angels. It's a weapon." He looked back and forth from brother to brother, who both remained silent. "You fellows knew that, didn't you?" he asked. "What did you think it was for?"

Dean cleared his throat, still processing the information. "Ah, like we said, Cas isn't really forthcoming with the background information."

They said their goodbyes and Dean turned to Sam on the way down the front path. "Dude, we are so screwed. The demons are never gonna let this one go. That angel dickhead just gave us two giant bulls-eyes on our backs."

"I think we already had those, Dean," Sam reminded him.

Their discussion of the recent discoveries was cut short when they reached the Impala where Alex still sat in the back seat, leaning back with her eyes closed and headphones on. She was oblivious to their return until Sam sank his massive frame into the passenger seat, lowering the car by at last a couple of inches. He told her they had been successful and she immediately asked to see the medallion. Figuring it couldn't do any harm at this point, Sam handed it over as Dean started the car up and headed back towards their motel at Loela.

Alex rotated the impressive artifact around in her hands as she studied it. "Hey, you guys remember Raiders of the Lost Ark?" she asked with a grin.

Dean laughed. He had actually been thinking the same thing when he had first set eyes on the relic. "Yeah, it does look a lot like that one, doesn't it?"

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_So they have the medallion... do you really think it's going to be that easy? Of course not :-) _


	5. Bikini-clad Miami Beach Bunnies

**Chapter 5**** - Bikini-Clad Miami Beach Bunnies**

"What now?" Sam asked his brother when they arrived back at the motel. Alex had gone to the diner down the street to pick up lunch for them all so they had a few moments to speak freely.

Dean shrugged. "I guess we wait here, see if Cas makes an appearance and tells us what he wants us to do with this thing."

"For how long?"

"If he doesn't show by tomorrow morning, I say we split. We don't want to stay in one place too long with this piece of trouble in our hands." Dean frowned at the medallion he was turning over and over in his fingers.

"What about Alex?" Sam asked. "Her ID's won't be ready for a few days yet."

Dean gave his brother another shrug. "Right now she's safer on her own than with us, dude. This is bigger than I thought."

Sam nodded his agreement. He enjoyed her company and, even more so, enjoyed the fact that Dean seemed to smile more when she was around, but he wasn't willing to risk her life by letting her hang around any longer than necessary. The Winchesters were smack in the middle of a dangerous situation right now and didn't have time to spare looking out for a third party. Even though she had proven herself pretty good in a tight spot before, she was still a liability.

"Okay. You tell her, though," he wrinkled his nose at his big brother, not relishing the task of disappointing the girl. She had been so overjoyed to see them it was hard not to see how much she was missing her own brother.

Dean, however, didn't seem to be listening. His brow was furrowed and he sat on the edge of his bed still staring at the medallion.

"Dude?" Sam tried to get his attention. "You hearing me? What's on your mind, Dean?"

Dean looked up at Sam. "What if Cas gave this to us for our protection?" he asked.

"What do you mean? It doesn't kill demons. And he gave it to us so _we_ could protect _it_, not the other way around."

"I dunno, Sammy. The angels aren't exactly all fans of ours, ya know. This could come in handy."

Sam's head jerked up as he realized what Dean was saying. "You think he gave this to us to defend ourselves against Uriel?"

Dean nodded slowly. "Maybe."

Castiel had never tried to harm him. In fact, quite the opposite. The angel had admitted having doubts and questions, had trusted in Dean's silence with that admission. When the brothers had refused to give up Anna, Cas had not attacked them; he had simply done his fingertap-sleep thing to Sam. It had been Uriel who had outright attacked Dean in that cabin. And the threat to throw Dean back in the pit that had been picked up by Anna's inner radio tuner could have been the work of angels that were higher up the celestial chain of command. Dean didn't believe it was Cas's doing. Cas wasn't the boss after all; he just followed orders, albeit too blindly for the hunter's liking. It had also been Uriel who had shown himself in Dean's dream with the threat to Sam, not Cas. Dean wanted very badly to trust Cas, for reasons even he couldn't pinpoint.

Sam didn't look very convinced. "Giving us a weapon to be used against angels would be considered disobeying, Dean. And we both know Angels don't disobey. Cas especially seems to be big on the whole following orders thing."

Alex chose that moment to return, carrying two bags of take-out containers, which she unpacked onto the motel room table. Quickly shelving the conversation for later, Dean eyed the food hungrily. "What? No pie?" he demanded, peeking in each box.

Alex laughed and threw Sam a knowing look. "Geez, you weren't kidding when you warned me not to forget it, were you?" she laughed before turning back to Dean. "Don't worry, Tyra. They ran out but they're making more and they'll deliver it in twenty minutes," she assured him as they dug in to the diner feast.

Alex had always hated doing nothing. She liked to keep busy and was forever looking for something new to try. She decided that if the guys were leaving tomorrow, they should all do something fun for the rest of the afternoon rather than laze about the motel. After several of her suggestions got unceremoniously shot down, she finally convinced them to go go-carting.

Although resistant at first, both Winchesters shouldering heavy thoughts of world doom and worrying about letting down the other, in the end Sam and Dean finally allowed themselves to relax enough to enjoy themselves. They found it a refreshingly fun afternoon and both made a private promise to themselves to do this type of thing more often. It was amazing, Dean thought to himself, how much an impending apocalypse sucks the fun out of life. Non-hunting memories of fun times like this afternoon were too few and far between, he decided, trying to remember the last actual good time he had shared with Sam.

Dean's attention turned to the Brentons' Bronco as they passed it upon their return to the motel. "I see Josh fixed his ride since we saw you last," he commented, noticing the new paint job and the dentless front bumper. In the hunt the four had worked together, Alex had driven the Bronco through a set of cemetery gates, causing some minor damage to the front end. As if that hadn't annoyed Josh enough, Arawn, the Celtic God they had been up against, had enveloped the SUV in a burst of flames in a fit of fury as the four hunters had fled the cemetery, bubbling the blue paint.

"Are you kidding?" Alex smiled instantly at the mention of her brother. "When we got to Albuquerque, he found himself a job at a body shop within two days so he could fix it himself."

"I don't get it," Dean snorted. "Don't get me wrong, I can totally understand a man's attachment to his ride, but this thing's what, a '92, '93? Not exactly a classic. Not like my baby."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"No seriously," Dean pressed. "No offense but it's a friggin' Bronco. There's probably ten thousand of them from that year alone still on the streets. What's your brother's obsession with it?"

Alex looked over at him, a hesitant look on her face before she finally spoke. "My parents gave him this beast to go to college with," she informed him. "After they died, with the way we move around so much, we really don't have any much left that reminds us of them."

She ran her hand fondly along the side of the hood and gave the car a look that Sam thought was very similar to the way Dean would look at his car. Sam was fairly certain, however, that to her, the car represented her brother, not her parents. She put her hand around the charm on the end of the necklace she wore and looked down at it. "They gave me this for my high school graduation," she said softly, "Not long before they…." She cut her sentence off when she glanced up and caught both Winchesters looking at her, nodding in sympathetic understanding.

Sam and Dean could both relate. Living most of their lives out of the trunk of their car, they had learned quickly that there just wasn't room for sentimental keepsakes or mementos. It made gift-giving easy as presents had to be either practical or disposable. They only had a few photos of their mother, given to their father by family friends shortly after the house fire in Lawrence. Even though their father had died less than three years ago, they had precious little to remind them of him. Until they had discovered the secret storage locker last year, Dean had only his car and his jacket and his Colt .45, all given to him by his father in rare moments of displayed affection and pride. Sam hadn't taken anything to remind him of his family when he left for college but had found a copy _of The Art of War_ that his dad had given him on his tenth birthday stashed away at Bobby's place during the summer he and Dean had spent there after John's death and had since slipped it into his duffel.

"There was this one time I rolled this baby," Alex laughed, changing the subject as usual when things got too sentimental for her liking. "My God, I though Josh was gonna keel over he was so upset when he saw her. He actually quit his job so he could spend the next month fixing her up." She rolled her eyes in mock disapproval of her brother's devotion to the car that had been the only permanent fixture in the Brentons' lives for over seven years now.

"You rolled it?" Dean raised an eyebrow at her, glad he had never allowed her to drive his car and making a mental note never to let that change. Maybe her spill into the tires during the go-kart race wasn't such an uncommon occurrence.

"Yeah, like six times. It wasn't my fault though," she said defensively. "I was dating this cop and he pulled some strings so I could take the high speed pursuit driving instruction they offer them," she shrugged. "I think the track was more meant for the police cruisers than SUV's."

Dean laughed, "I don't know which is worse, that you toasted your brother's ride or that you dated a cop."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Later in the evening, they all headed down the street to the Laundromat. When living out of the trunk of a car and only having three changes of clothes, the Laundromat was a frequently necessary evil. On the way over, Dean ever so conveniently heard a rattle in the Impala's engine and insisted that he had better check it out right away, tossing Sam his duffel. "You don't mind do you Bro?" he grinned, ignoring the expected frustrated but compliant huff he got from his brother as he hopped back in the car and drove away.

"Dude, you're gonna let him get away with that?" Alex snorted as they loaded their clothes in the available washers. "I'd find a cheap red shirt and toss it in with his load. Turn all his jeans pink."

Sam shrugged. "That's my brother for ya. I figure I can put up with him shirking laundry duty's considering all he's been through, where he's been... you know. " He glanced over at the lady in the far corner, the only other patron in the place. She was sitting on a wooden bench leaning back against the wall with her eyes closed and appeared to be asleep.

Following his gaze, Alex replied quietly, realizing Sam was referring to Dean's time in Hell and couldn't speak freely with an audience. "I guess," she said simply, letting him drop the subject.

The two sat in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Alex turned to Sam with a deep intake of breath, indicating that she wanted to ask him something but was hesitant to do so. She paused for a second and looked away.

"What is it?" Sam smiled, figuring he may as well get it over with, since this was bound to be the inevitable questions about his brother's time in Hell. Better if they were put to him that to Dean himself. But it wasn't quite the question he had been expecting.

"Well," she started, "It's just that something has really been bugging me since I found out Dean died and went to Hell." She spoke quietly, out of earshot of the sleeping woman. "Your brother's a hunter. Sure he scams credit card companies, hustles pool, lies and swears, and I get the impression he's far from virtuous when it comes to women, but he does save people. And he risks his own neck to do it. He kills evil things and saves people."

Sam wasn't sure where this was headed. "Yeah…" he encouraged, waiting for her to make her point.

"So I'm a little concerned about the judgment criteria," she explained. "I mean, Dean's a good guy. A hero, even. If _he_ got sent to Hell, then we're pretty much all screwed, aren't we?" She wrinkled her nose at Sam. "Seriously, Heaven must be a pretty under populated place."

Sam couldn't help but laugh at her logic. "You're right about one thing," he said. "Dean is a good guy. But he didn't go to Hell because he wasn't good. He, uh …." Sam looked down at his hands, as he slouched in the uncomfortable and too-small-for-him laundromat chair, reluctant to say the words out loud. "He went to Hell for me," he admitted.

Alex didn't say anything but sat quietly, waiting for him to explain.

"I died," Sam continued. "And Dean summoned a crossroads demon and made a deal." He managed to look up at Alex, hoping the guilt wasn't showing through too much as he spoke. "He traded his soul for my life. He got a year to live then he went to Hell when that year was up last May."

Alex realized after he stopped talking that she was holding her breath, a reaction to the gravity of Sam's explanation. She finally let out a slow sigh and studied the young hunter's face. There was no hiding the guilt he felt, though he must know it hadn't been his fault. The deal had been his brother's doing. She tried to imagine how she would feel if Josh did that for her. Not just die, but suffer eternal damnation in Hell and all that. She was sure that being left to go on knowing where he was because of her would be worse than death. Although Dean's damnation apparently hadn't been all that eternal, it obviously still tore at Sam.

"I'm sorry," she said. "That must have been torture for you."

Sam looked away. Torture was an understatement. Apparently he hadn't done that convincing of a job of covering up, for she had voiced concern for his pain, not the expected concern for Dean's suffering in Hell. She reached over and tapped his hand in an awkward consoling gesture.

Sam let her off the hook, smiling inwardly at her discomfort. "Yeah, well, he's back now," he dismissed. "What's done is done. And you don't have to worry, I'm sure the judgment criteria, as you put it, isn't that harsh." He was fairly sure she'd be going upstairs but knew he was basically screwed. Things with demon blood certainly didn't get into Heaven.

Alex smiled, relieved at being let off so easily for providing comforting words, not something she enjoyed doing at all. "Well, that's good to know," she said. "I can deal with Josh in jail, but not in Hell."

It dawned on Sam that in asking the question, she had been asking in concern over the judgment of her brother's soul at the Pearly Gates more so than her own. He shook his head in understanding. Family was indeed the only thing that really mattered, but it could also be such a curse. Such a source of pain, hurt, guilt, and grief. But he wouldn't trade Dean for the world. And he was gonna get his brother through all this and find that stubborn bastard some peace and happiness eventually. Someday. Somehow.

He threw a suspicious look back at Alex. "So you know about the credit card fraud, huh?" he smiled. "I'm surprised your Boy Scout brother still called us knowing that one."

Alex laughed. "Hey, he's not as Boy Scout as you two seem to think. Besides, the way I look at it, you guys technically work for the credit card companies."

"How do you figure?"

"Well, you save people, right? Most of these people you save have credit cards. You saving them gives the credit card company all the money that person makes them for the rest of their life. I guarantee that comes to more than whatever your skeevie motel bills and diner meals cost them. And I guess you could consider your gas-guzzling choice of transportation as a sort of Christmas bonus. Or a good-performance bonus. After all, you guys are obviously pretty good at your chosen profession."

"Oh my God, you sound just like Dean!" Sam grinned at her teasingly with a shake of his head. "I've been hearing that warped justification from him my whole life."

Dean and his fake credit cards showed up when the dryers had about twenty minutes left. Sam leaned over to Alex. "Watch this, he'll remember one more thing he's gotta do then leave for exactly twenty more minutes," he said quietly in her ear.

"How're things coming?" Dean greeted them as he sauntered in through the glass doors with his usual bowlegged stride.

"Only two machines working so we got held up. Twenty minutes left," Sam informed him.

"Ah. Okay then," he answered, leaning against an unused washer for a few seconds. "You know what?" he said suddenly, "I really should gas the Impala up; that gas station up the street may close soon. I'll be back in a few minutes." With that he headed back out the door, keys jingling in his hand.

Alex burst out laughing. "Damn, and I thought I spent too much time with my brother!"

Twenty minutes later, though, Dean hadn't come back. After half an hour, Sam was huffing in annoyance as he dialed his brother's number with no answer. At fifty minutes, he was getting scared and at an hour he was pretty much freaking.

"I'm sure he's fine, Sam. He probably just got a flat, or stopped at a bar to hustle some pool, or met some girl," she said, though she wasn't convinced of that herself. If there was one thing she had seen firsthand of these brothers, it was how close they were. Like her and Josh, she found it unlikely Dean would step out of phone reach without letting his brother know first. And Sam certainly didn't seem the type to fret unnecessarily. Looking at him now, she could tell he was really scared.

Sam wasn't reassured. He dialed the number to the motel and asked to be transferred to the room he shared with his brother. No answer. "Shit!" he swore. "Something's wrong."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Dean topped up the tank of the Impala and pulled her over to the side parking spaces so he could take his time in the convenience store. He felt minimally guilty about sticking Sam with all the laundry duty since his return from the pit, but figured at least this time the kid would have company. He couldn't really explain his recent amplified aversion to laundromats, except that the constant noise and the stifling heat stirred a vaguely hell-like memory and he had been overcome with nausea and had difficulty breathing the first time he had visited one after his return. He had made up an excuse to leave but, not wanting to risk embarrass himself and appearing weak in front of Sam again, he preferred now to simply avoid the experience altogether.

He paid for the gas, stocked up on road trip munchies (M&M's, Twinkies, and chips), and picked up a couple of bottles of whiskey, having almost finished his current supply. It was going on nine o'clock and therefore dark outside but warm, even for Arkansas. Dean decided he liked the warm weather. Too much of the winter had been spent in the northern states the past few years. He and Sam should follow Alex and Josh's lead, he thought to himself as he walked back over to the Impala. They should only search out hunts in warm climates from November to March. Next Christmas, he was gonna find a job in Miami. He smiled to himself, picturing bikini-clad Miami beach-bunnies as he pulled open his car door and tossed the plastic bag on the passenger seat.

But he never made it into the car. Thousands of volts of electricity suddenly seared through his body from his lower side and a strong arm wrapped itself around his neck from behind. Dean struggled for only a split second before he felt his entire body go as stiff as a board and he lost all motor skills completely. Momentary thoughts of _'how the hell did I let someone sneak up on me?_' and _'these pricks better not be stealing my car_' flashed through his mind before the racking pain of the jolts all but blocked out cognitive thought. They continued for a good thirty seconds or so and when they finally stopped, he had a vague notion of falling before he was met with the relief of blackness.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC...**_

_So __**finally**__ we get to the good stuff... Things just keep escalating from here, which isn't a good thing for either Winchester... _


	6. We Let the Prick Sweat a Little

**Chapter 6**** - ****We Let the Prick Sweat a Little.**

Sam decided to head back to the motel and check for any sign of Dean while Alex stayed in the laundromat in case he showed up. He hadn't even made it to the end of the row of beaten-up dryers when his phone rang, still gripped tightly in his hand. He glanced quickly at the call display, letting out a breath of relief when his brother's name appeared.

"Dean?!" he half yelled, half pleaded into the phone. "Where the Hell are you?"

A moment's pause, then a voice answered him. A voice definitely not his brother's.

_"I'm afraid Dean's a little busy right now."_

Sam could hear the cruel taunting in the man's slow, calm words. "Who is this?" he demanded, fear once again gripping him. "What have you done to Dean?"

He noticed Alex look up at him sharply, obviously piecing the situation together, but her face was a blur as fear and fury overcame him.

The voice on the other end of the phone laughed. _"Don't worry. I'm sure he's been through worse. You know, in Hell."_

"What do you want?" Sam shouted into the phone. He didn't have the patience for demon sense of humour. He just wanted to determine who this guy was quickly so he could find him and kill him and get Dean back - alive.

_"I'm sure you know exactly what we want, Sam."_ The voice was no longer laughing or teasing. _"We want the medallion."_

"I don't have it," Sam bluffed, realizing Dean would kill him himself if he handed it over without a fight. His hand absently pressed gently on the side of his jeans, assuring himself that the medallion was still safely tucked into his inside jacket pocket. Since finding out that it could possibly kill angels, Dean had insisted that Sam keep it on him along with Ruby's knife. Sam knew he was being asked to hold the knife so he could no longer claim he had no other option than using his powers, but had gone along with it to keep the peace after their last argument on the subject.

"_Well then_," the demon answered, for Sam was sure at this point that it was a demon, "_You'd better get it by noon tomorrow or your brother goes right back downstairs to the pit. This time for good_."

Sam struggled to rein in his temper and keep his cool. Could they actually send Dean back to Hell? Why was everyone - angels and demons both - always threatening to send his brother back there? Couldn't Dean just once catch a break? "Let me speak to Dean," he demanded, needing desperately to know his brother was okay, at least for now.

There was a silent pause before he heard raspy, hitched breaths on the other end of the phone. "Dean?" he asked, partly hoping it wasn't his brother, for the breaths didn't sound healthy. "Dean, is that you?"

_"Sammy?"_ Dean's voice quietly answered him. _"Medallion of Eridu_._"_

Sam heard a smack that sounded terrifyingly like a hard punch to the face and the demon came back on the phone. "_You have until noon tomorrow. We'll be in touch_." Click.

Sam slammed his fist into the closest dryer, denting the front metal face where his hand struck. Why had he told them he didn't have the medallion? Now Dean would be in their hands another fourteen or so hours. They could do a lot of damage in that amount of time. The thought of his brother once again at the mercy of a pack of demons made him sick to his stomach. A thought came to him suddenly with a 'duh' slap to the head and he quickly dialed Dean's number back on the phone. He would just tell them to move up the timeline. He'd figure out a play in time but he just couldn't bear to wait.

Straight to voicemail.

"Is it the demons after the medallion?" he heard a voice ask him and realized that he wasn't alone. In his rage and worry he had forgotten Alex was even there. The presence of another person in the room helped calm him somewhat and he collected himself enough to explain what was going on.

"So we're gonna give them the medallion, right?" she asked him when he finished.

Sam looked away guiltily. "I can't do that," he almost whispered. "That would have consequences. Big consequences. I can't explain."

"So what are we gonna do?" Surprisingly, she took him at his word and didn't push for an explanation.

He looked down at her with a helpless expression. "I don't know," he admitted, vaguely noting the fact that she had included herself in whatever the plan was. "I don't know yet." _He was going to get his brother back; that was what he was going to do._ But he couldn't exactly just hand over the medallion and give the demons a weapon against the angels and the key to another seal. He pulled his phone back out. "I'm calling Bobby," he said simply, hitting number two on his speed-dial.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Dean had awoken to find himself tied to a metal chair, consciousness brought about by a jolt of pain in his wrists. He struggled to push open his heavy eyelids and lifted his head to take in his surroundings. He appeared to be in a small, empty warehouse with dirty, cracked glass in the windows and a graffiti-covered cement floor. He turned his head to see what else was around him but his attention was brought back to his wrists by a sharp pain as he shifted his weight in the chair. He looked down to see blood spotting his torn shirt sleeves and realized his wrists and lower arms were bound to the chair arms tightly with barbed wire. "Sonofabitch!" he breathed, resolving to keep as still as possible to prevent the barbs from tearing more holes in his skin.

"Look who finally decided to wake up!" A somewhat attractive redheaded woman moved into Dean's view, smirking at him with her hands on her hips. Her eyes flashed black.

_Oh great_, Dean thought. _Friggin' demons_. He rolled his eyes at her and managed a cocky grin. "Sorry if I kept you waiting, sweetheart."

She was practically licking her lips, obviously reveling in having the upper hand over the hunter. "The great Dean Winchester," she jeered. "Tasered in the Quickie-Mart parking lot. How embarrassing for you."

"Can we just get to the point?" Dean groaned wondering wh_y _demons always felt the need to mock and monologue. "What do you want with me?"

A flicker of annoyance crossed her face at his attempt to rob her of her opportunity to gloat. She leaned forward and placed her hands on his wrists, squeezing tightly with a grin. "Get off your high horse, Winchester. We don't want you for anything. As soon as we get the medallion, we'll put you out of your misery. I promise."

Dean was good at hiding pain. He had always had a great game face. He pulled it on now, grinning through the throbbing sting inflicted in his wrists as the barbs sunk deeper. He could feel the warmth of his blood trickling down his hands but ignored it with practiced ease. "What medallion?" he asked innocently.

With a curl of her lip, the redhead dealt him a hard backhand to the jaw, knocking the chair he was in backwards and landing him on the floor with a thud. He let out a groan and kicked out at her, landing a boot solidly in her shin. Recovering quickly and spitting a stream of curse words at the hunter, she returned the favour by kicking him in the gut. Still tied to the chair, he was seeing stars by the time she landed the fourth kick. He heard voices and became aware of others in the room.

"Hey, Adriana, we can't kill him just yet!" he heard a man shout. One more kick was planted in his chest before the redhead thankfully backed off.

"Don't worry, I won't kill him," she hissed with a sneer aimed at Dean. The hunter looked around and noticed four other people, presumably demons also, standing in the room. One of them, a young man with a scruffy beard, came over and righted Dean's chair.

"He's awake," he said to the others. "Let's call the brother."

A larger man shook his head. "No," he said in an authoritative tone, "We let the prick sweat a little. We've got seven missed calls already," he jeered, holding up Dean's phone with a gleeful snicker. It was clear this was their leader.

The phone rang again, still waving in the demon's hands, the classic rock ringtone getting a laugh from the non-human audience. "Make that eight," the leader cackled, looking at the display screen triumphantly.

_Well at least they didn't have Sam too_, Dean thought thankfully, wanting very badly to rip the heads off both the leader and the redhead.

"Dean here's pretending he doesn't know about the medallion," the redhead announced, folding her arms as she stood in front of him.

"Oh, is that so?" the leader mocked sarcastically. "You don't know anything about the Medallion of Eridu?"

The Medallion of Eridu. Is that what it was called? Dean had never heard the name. Maybe Bobby had. He'd have to ask him as soon as he could get out of here. He definitely wanted to know more about the supposed angel-killing medallion. He wanted to know what Cas wasn't telling them. A kick to the shin from the lead demon brought his focus sharply back to the room and his predicament.

"You just happen to be in Smit's house two days after the old man buys it, huh? Purely a coincidence." It was hard to miss the sarcasm in the leader's voice.

"Who?" Dean asked, feigning innocence once again. It wasn't as if he thought they'd believe him; it was just in his nature to be stubborn.

"We know you're working with angels, dumbass," the leader spat. "We know you're after it too."

"And we know you were there, you and that freak brother of yours!" Another demon stepped forward. Dean recognized him as the burly man with the long moustache that Sam had poured holy water on at Brian's house. One of the two that had escaped when Sam had exorcised their leader... well, their previous leader, anyway. He looked around at the others and recognized the short-haired brunette in the floral print dress as the other escapee from Brian's house.

"I see you've found more friends," he sneered at the moustached man. "After we killed the first bunch, anyway."

The punch from the large demon probably wouldn't have hurt so much if his head hadn't struck a nearby wooden bench as his chair once again toppled to the floor. A few more kicks were aimed at his gut and chest, the chair he was tied to skidding across the floor with each strike. He could feel his wrists and lower arms getting shredded by the barbs as they were scraped across the cement. The last kick was aimed at his head, landing on his jaw and snapping his head backwards into the floor with a crack and he struggled to hold onto consciousness as he was once again uprighted. He vaguely heard laughing then quite suddenly the demons were all quiet except the leader.

"I'm afraid Dean's a little busy right now," he heard the leader say before a quiet pause. "Don't worry. I'm sure he's been through worse. You know, in Hell."

_Damn, they must have called Sam._

"I'm sure you know exactly what we want, Sam. We want the medallion." Another pause. "Well then, you'd better get it by noon tomorrow or your brother goes right back downstairs to the pit. This time for good."

Why was everyone always threatening to send him back to Hell? Why couldn't they just threaten to kill him like they used to, back in the good ol' days. He felt a cold object being pressed to his ear, presumably his phone. He heard his brother's anxious voice on the other end of the line, sounding very far away. "_Dean? Dean is that you?_"

He tried to calm his breath and sound unhurt to lessen his brother's worry. "Sammy?" he croaked. Damn, that hadn't sounded strong at all. "Medallion of Eridu," he blurted, hoping the scrap of intel he'd picked up would come in useful to his brother.

He didn't see the next hit coming and was out before he even hit the floor.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Bobby was sipping on a soda and leafing through a new addition to his already extensive library of books on the supernatural. He had scores of ancient texts, some said to be written by demons, prophets, and even one rumoured to have been inked by a ghost. He had even more modern books, many of which were written by hunters to be used by fellow hunters. He had what he liked to refer to his 'sorta fiction' section, which contained every issue of World Weekly News ever printed as well as main-stream (meaning non-hunter-approved) manuals and guidebooks to the supernatural. Then he had his religious section, which had more than tripled in size in the past four months since the discovery that angels were real and the apocalypse was indeed on the horizon. It was one of these new texts he was reading now, hoping to find anything that could help the Winchester boys in the weeks to come.

Bobby had always made sure he kept himself well-informed. Ever since he had killed his beloved wife not knowing at the time that she had been possessed by a demon, ignorance and lack of intel had become unforgivable sins for him. Over the past decade, he had become one of the best known 'go-to' guys in the hunting world. But now he poured all his experience and knowledge into one avenue; helping Dean and Sam. He had lost Dean to Lillith last year, and in turn lost Sam to the boy's own despair. He had spent four months in the bottom of a bottle until God had seen fit to bring the boy he loved like a son back to him. Both of them. Bobby was damned if they were going to get taken away again.

It was not unusual for one of the Winchester boys to be calling him at night. In fact, it was barely ten o'clock and therefore early in the hunting world. He picked up his cell from its quickly accessible spot on the table next to him as it rang and read the call display with a hint of a smile before answering gruffly.

"Sam. What can I do you for?"

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Dean awoke to darkness and thankfully, silence. It seemed his demon captors had been confident enough in their restraint of the hunter to leave him unattended. He decided to use this opportunity to make his great escape and in doing so, keep the Winchester reputation intact. No Winchester, especially the most bad-ass of the bunch, was going to be used as a pawn in giving up what was potentially the single-most powerful weapon in this war. And he especially wasn't going to do that tied to a chair like some chump in a crappy, stinking warehouse.

He kicked at the chair with his feet, searching for any sign of a weak point where he could apply force and break it. It was solid metal, not one of the flimsy wooden chairs he had been tied to in the past. He turned his attention to the barbed wire around his wrists and forearms, studying it to see how it was tied off but couldn't locate the ends. Starting with the left, he pulled at each arm to see how much movement he could generate before the barbs started tearing his skin. He bit his lip and stifled a cry of pain as he realized the answer was none. Wincing in anticipation, he braced himself for the inevitable and started pushing and pulling at his left arm, using his months of practice in Hell to shut out the stinging agony and the smell of his blood as the holes the barbs had already made became longer, bloodier gashes. He was beginning to feel a small amount of give when he heard a female voice behind him.

"Awww, that's so sad. You don't seriously think you're gonna get away, do you?" it taunted.

Dean gritted his teeth in annoyance but flashed a handsome smile as he turned to face the redhead. "Now why would I want to do that?" he said pleasantly.

The demon laughed, taking up a standing position about five feet in front of him, arms folded across her chest and head tilted thoughtfully to one side. "Well, they do say you're the stupid one," she answered with a hint of a snarl. "I'm gonna enjoy slitting your throat."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yada yada yada," he drawled. "Don't you demons ever have an original thought?"

She tried to hide her irritation. "Oh, that's right. You're used to a more creative bedside manner. Alistair hospitality."

Dean was sure she caught his flinch at the mention of his former-tormentor-turned-mentor's name because her smile widened and her eyes narrowed as she continued.

"Rumour has it you liked his company so much you spent thirty years on the rack," she laughed a nasty sounding laugh. "Like I said. Stupid."

Normally Dean would have thrown back a smartass retort but right now he just didn't trust he could pull it off without her seeing through his shaky tough-guy façade. He had been back four months now but his heart still raced and his muscles tensed at the very mention of Alistair, all of the horrible things he and his lackeys had done to Dean, and all of the even worse things Dean had done for him. So he stayed silent, which unfortunately just seemed to encourage her further.

"Seriously, who does that?" she jeered. "I mean, what was the point? You're definitely stubborn, Winchester, I'll say that much for you."

"What can I say?" Dean said half-heartedly, wishing she would hurry up and leave so he could resume his escape efforts. "It's in the genes."

"Ha! That's the truth!" she cried, throwing her head back in a laugh. "But you broke eventually, didn't you, Dean?" She leaned forward as she purred out the words, resting her hands on his barbed wrists and pressing down hard. "Every demon I know envied Alistair. First your Daddy, then you. Oh, the fun he must have had."

Dean felt his facial muscles betray him again as they twitched at the mention of his father suffering like he had. The bitch was observant; he had to give her that, for now she was licking her lips in delight at striking a nerve.

"What, you thought Daddy spent his hundred plus years relaxing by the pool?" She stood back up straight, giving Dean a sympathetic look. "Daddy ponies up his soul for you and you're such a pathetic follower that you go and do the same thing. Well, if you ask me, that's like a slap in the face. Have you no gratitude for what he did for you?" She leaned in close and whispered in his ear. "I'm guessing you were a big disappointment to the great John Winchester, Deanie boy."

She stood up and studied him closely, satisfied smirk still on her face. "Hell, I'd be disappointed if you were my brat."

"Well that'd make me a real son of a bitch, wouldn't it?" he snarled at her, trying to goad her into changing the subject. He had been tormented in the year after his father had died, imagining all sorts of pain and suffering that the man may have been going through because of him. But after experiencing Hell himself, he realized the worst things he had imagined weren't even close to how horrific the reality was. Dean had been there for forty years. Because of him, his dad had endured over a century in the pit.

The redhead was thoroughly enjoying this and refused to be swayed. "Tell me, Dean, how do you think your father was at the Devil's Gate when it opened?"

Dean stared at her blankly. Was she implying her father had broken as he had? That he had been released from the rack and therefore free to fight his way out? He shook his head stubbornly. "My dad, he..." Dean growled, his anger and doubt making it hard to articulate what he wanted to say. "You're wrong," he spat.

"Am I?" she goaded, obviously loving the fact that Dean clearly had no idea what had transpired when the first Winchester had gone to Hell. "Please, do share. What do you think happened, Dean? Think he lasted a hundred and twenty years on the rack? Or do you think he cracked like a ten year old girl in the first week, begging Alistair to let him be his latest stooge and teach him the ways?" Her eyes gleamed with excitement and she took a sharp intake of breath at a sudden thought. "Which reminds me, I heard you were on the fast track to getting your demon stripes. Quite the eager beaver. Showed such exuberance for the sport."

Dean had had enough. She had been relishing the verbal torture so much she had let her guard down, prancing in front of him, forgetting his feet weren't tied. He kicked out hard, landing his boot in her knee. She cried out in pain and doubled over as an instinctive reaction, so he quickly sent a second kick straight to the side of her head.

Knowing she would recover long before he could get himself free, he was aware he had just earned himself a few punches at the very least. He braced himself for her wrath but quickly realized he had underestimated her fury. He swallowed in dreadful anticipation when she straightened up coolly and pulled a gleaming four inch blade out of her pocket.

_Shit_, he breathed, trying to keep any sign of fear from his face. _Oh _w_ell, it was better than suffering through any more monologing_.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**


	7. I Even Hate Canadian Demons

**Chapter 7** - **I Even Hate Canadian Demons**

"Bobby's flight touches down in an hour. You sure you don't mind picking him up?" Sam asked Alex for the fourth time as she grabbed the keys to the Bronco from the table in the motel room Sam and Dean shared. With Dean's latest deadline looming, there hadn't been time for Bobby to drive to Arkansas but he had been fortunate to find a late night flight.

"Not at all," she assured him. "I get that you don't want to stray too far in case they call back." Every time Alex looked at Sam her heart twisted in a knot. He was a mess and she was crap at comforting. Josh would have known what to say.

She tried to imagine if it was Josh instead of Dean in the hands of a pack of evil demons with an apparent grudge and shuddered. On second thought, maybe the young hunter was indeed coping quite well with the situation. Despite the fact that he had bloodied his knuckles on two occasions already by punching things harder than his fists in sheer frustration and worry. Despite the fact that he had been yelling at Ruby on the phone several times, hounding her for information. Despite the fact that his voice had almost broken when he had been describing the latest predicament to Bobby, an old hunter friend of the Winchesters.

It was her guess this Bobby was more than just a friend though because by the end of the phone conversation, it had been Sam speaking the words of encouragement and Bobby had booked a late night flight into Little Rock within ten minutes of Sam's first call. Dean had also spoken quite fondly of Bobby several times in the short while she had known the brothers.

"Uh, Alex?" Sam added as she headed for the door.

"Yeah?" she paused and turned, her hand on the knob.

"Don't mention my, uh, latest Jedi power to Bobby, okay? He doesn't know."

"Okay," she agreed, hesitating for a moment. She had an inkling Sam had more to say.

"Bobby's like family," Sam explained, feeling like he had to defend the man who had always treated him like a son, not wanting her to think Bobby would think any less of him because of the new ability. "I mean, he knows everything else, he just…" He let the sentence trail off.

"He doesn't understand what it's like to be a freak?" Alex finished for him with a smile. "I hear ya, Fiver. My lips are sealed. See ya in a bit."

Sam allowed his mouth to curl into a lopsided smile, finding some comfort in the fact that Alex too had an unexplainable psychic thing going on and could surely relate to feeling misunderstood or alienated because of it. He wasn't the only one who felt like a freak sometimes. He pulled out his phone and dialed Ruby's number for the fifth time since Dean's capture.

"_Sam, I haven't got anything new for you. It's only been twenty minutes since you last called me."_

"Yeah, well, I'm running out of time. I've only got until noon, that's... ten hours." Sam couldn't hide his frustration. "I need to know where they're holding him, Ruby." He hadn't told her yet about the medallion.

"_M__y demon contacts are few and far between these days since I'm a fugitive and all and since I'm on Lillith's top ten hit list_." Sam didn't miss the silent words between the spoken lines. _Because of what I did for you._

He sighed and closed his eyes for a second, still holding the phone to his ear. His voice was softer when he spoke and held a hint of desperation. "I just need to get him back, Ruby. I can't go through that again."

"_I know. I'll be there soon_," She replied before hanging up abruptly. Phone etiquette had never been her thing.

Sam sat down on the end of his bed, burying his head in his hands. He had no idea what else to do, how else to find these demons before they could hurt Dean any more than they already had. He hadn't felt so helpless since that year Dean's contract was looming over them and like the day the Hellhounds had ripped his brother apart. Helpless was something he hadn't felt since Ruby had convinced him to start using his powers to destroy the countless demons they had sought out. He had slowed his demon-pulling activity since Dean's return but knowing that power was there still gave him a sense of control. Like he would never be helpless again. He knew that if he'd learned how to use these powers last year like Ruby had originally suggested, he would have been able to destroy Lillith before Dean had been dragged to Hell.

But here he was, helpless again. Unable to save Dean again. If he could just find out where his brother was, he could take these demons down. All of them. He knew he could. Damnit, if he could only find the miserable sons of bitches, he'd eradicate every last one of them.

When angry, scared, or upset, it was Sam's usual M.O. to alienate and take off, to go it alone. But he had thought calmly and rationally this time and had decided giving in to his fear and rage and going off half-cocked was not what was best for Dean. Getting all the help he could was the smart thing to do so he had called Bobby. Bobby always knew what to do. If any hunter could find a clue, it would be Bobby.

He had also called Ruby. Ruby had connections and sources he couldn't even begin to imagine. She had saved Dean in the past so he trusted that she would at least try now, even if only to save herself from having to sober Sam up again.

And he had Alex there. He wasn't sure how she could help yet, except that she was a decent hunter whether she considered herself one or not. And there was the radar thing. That may come in handy.

But the one that could help the most, the one that _**should**_ be helping, was noticeably absent. Why did Castiel only show up when he needed something? In the countless times Dean's life had been in peril since meeting the angel last September, Castiel had never once shown up to save them. What was the point in going through all the trouble of rescuing his brother from the pit if he wasn't going to lift a finger to keep him here in the land of the living? The brothers didn't even have a way of contacting him. _Fucking angels._

SPN-SPN-SPN

Bobby was the first passenger off the plane and headed straight for baggage claim. He was impatiently tapping his foot in front of the baggage carousel, waiting for his worn, army surplus duffel to appear through the rubber strip curtain at the end when he heard a female voice speak his name.

"Bobby Singer?" it asked from behind him. He turned to see a very pretty blonde girl of about twenty-five smiling questioningly at him.

_Friggin' figures. _He chuckled to himself as he nodded to her. He knew damn near all the hunters in the country. Leave it to those Winchester boys to find one of the few he didn't that happened to look like that.

"Yeah, that's me," he grunted, almost disapprovingly. "You must be Alex."

She nodded pleasantly. "You brought luggage?" she asked, sounding surprised.

He refrained from voicing the obvious '_No, I'm standing here for the good of my health_' comment that was perched on the tip of his tongue. Bobby could, after all, be a gentleman when it came to ladies of the human variety. Well, most of them, anyway.

"I had some books I needed to bring along. Too many for my carry-on." He saw his duffel emerging through the black curtain. "Ahh, that's it!" he cried as he grabbed it and slung it on his shoulder. "Let's go."

It was about an hour's drive but by the time they hit the freeway, Bobby realized it wasn't going to take nearly that long. With her soft features and slightly shy demeanor, the girl didn't much look like most hunter women he knew, who were all bad-ass attitude and tough-chick facades, but she drove like she had the grim reaper himself on her tail. Bobby had been planning on reading up in the car, not wanting to waste any valuable time that Dean may not have, but found he couldn't concentrate on the book in his hand, what with the quick lane changes and all the cars they were whizzing past.

"So you're a hunter, huh?" he said, trying to make casual conversation without distracting her too much from the road. Sam hadn't said much about her on the phone, just that he was going to send a hunter he trusted to pick Bobby up. The kid hadn't elaborated except that she was blonde and wasn't to be told about angels.

"Well, not really," she answered. "I mean, I hunt with my brother sometimes, but we don't really do it full time like Dean and Sam."

That might explain why he'd never heard of her. "So what were you doing in Loela?" he pressed. "How'd you hear about the medallion?" It was in Bobby's nature to be suspicious, especially these days.

"Actually, I bumped into the guys in Texas. They helped me out with a little family problem and they mentioned they were coming here to pick up a cursed object so I asked to tag along."

"And they said yes," Bobby snorted and shook his head at Dean's predictability - for he was sure it had been Dean who had agreed to let her stick around. That boy was always thinking with the wrong…

"It's obviously more than just a cursed object," she interrupted his thoughts. "I don't know what the significance of the medallion is but the demons want it pretty bad. There were five of them at the priest's house. I haven't really had that many dealings with demons but I've never come across a pack of five before."

"Neither had I until a couple of years ago," Bobby confessed. "There are a lot more demons around these days. It's a dangerous time to be a hunter."

Alex laughed. "And hunting wasn't dangerous before?" she asked jokingly. "So, Bobby, how long have you been in the game? The boys talk about you as if you're the hunting guru or something."

"Goin' on thirty years now," Bobby admitted, smiling at the indirect compliment.

"And how long have you known Dean and Sam?"

"Goin' on twenty-five years now," he answered fondly.

"Really." She said, not phrasing it as a question. A slow smile spread across her face. "I just can't imagine them as little kids. I can't imagine Sam as _little_ anything. What were they like?"

Bobby grunted affectionately. "Stubborn, pigheaded, pain-in-the-ass Winchesters, same as they are now. Same as their daddy before 'em."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Dean's eyes were closed and his head was slumped forward, chin resting on his chest, giving him every appearance of being out cold. The legendary Winchester resolve, however, had kicked in and Dean was, in fact, holding onto consciousness, if barely so. Until a few moments ago, the redheaded demon had been taking immense pleasure in slowly carving a series of shallow but painful slices into the hunter's chest and had just started her fifth when the leader had stopped her once more.

"For the last time Adriana, we need him alive for now!" he had snapped, bringing her prey a temporary reprieve.

"They're not fatal!" she'd retorted angrily, upset at her fun being stopped. "I know what I'm doing!"

"If you're not careful, he'll bleed out," the leader had argued. "Then we'll have nothing to bargain with."

Too weak to keep up the smart-ass comments any longer, Dean had let his head drop as soon as she had pulled his t-shirt back down and removed herself from her straddling position. He heard the moustached man speak up and guessed his comments were aimed at the redhead.

"You really want to be the one to kill him? You know the angels are all over this thing."

"So what? Think they give a damn about Winchester here? They wouldn't waste their time avenging this pissant," she replied.

"They wasted their time dragging his ass out of Hell!" the man shot back.

"Well it's the brother that scares me," the second female offered.

"So he should," Dean heard the leader answer. "Azazel's little reject's been busy. At least he's slowed down since the angels took an interest in big brother here. For a while there he was sending us back faster than we were getting out."

"How are we going to make the exchange?" another voice asked. That must be the young guy with the scruffy beard, Dean thought, his hunter's instincts trying to keep track.

"Or rather, _**not**_ make the exchange," the redhead corrected, giving the unresponsive hunter a nudge to indicate that she had no intention of letting him live.

"Either way," Scruffy continued. "I don't want to get anywhere near the Winchester kid. I mean, he pulled Samhain for Christ's sake!"

"Me neither," the second female agreed fervently.

"Would you rather face Azazel's brat or inform Lillith we failed to get the medallion?" the leader challenged, his voice betraying his annoyance at the questioning of his plans.

Dean felt he should be feeling some sense of satisfaction that these demons were terrified of Sam, but he didn't. In fact, he wasn't sure if the nausea he was feeling was blood loss or his reaction to the demon's conversation. He was even less sure about what to make of the leader's next comment.

"It doesn't matter anyway. I've got a plan that'll keep us all out of the Winchester bastard's way."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

It wasn't until the Bronco pulled up outside the cheap motel next to an old beat-up muscle car that Bobby realized he had derived virtually no information from the blonde driver during the trip. She had subtly but deftly steered the conversation away from herself and had kept it focused on Sam and Dean, playing on his obvious affection for the younger pair. He inwardly scolded himself upon this realization; he had never been one to let himself get played. She was pretty good, he grudged and came to the conclusion that this girl definitely had trouble for one or both of the Winchester boys tattooed on her ass.

The Impala wasn't there and Bobby's stomach lurched when he noted its absence. Alex had mentioned that she and Sam had searched the gas station where Dean last said he was going but hadn't been able to find the Chevy.

Alex knocked quietly on the door as Bobby got his duffel out of the back seat. Sam opened up quickly and let them in, taking the heavy bag from Bobby as the older man stepped inside. "Jeez Bobby, what you got in here?"

Bobby didn't answer right away but instead stopped to stare with eyebrows raised at the brunette standing with her arms folded in the back of the room by the bedside table.

"Oh crap," he heard Alex say from behind him when she, too noticed the girl. "What does she want now?"

"I know you," Bobby thought out loud, wagging his finger at the brunette who was busy glaring at Alex.

"Bobby, it's Ruby," Sam explained, dumping the bag on the bed, realizing that the mechanic hadn't yet been formally introduced to the brunette version. The last time the two had met, Sam had lied and referred to her as Candy or Chrissy or Carla or something, implying she was just a one night stand.

Bobby grunted. It was neither an approving nor disapproving grunt but simply one of recognition. He remembered now the girl from the motel room when he and Dean had first tracked down Sam after Dean resurfaced in the land of the living. Dean had called Bobby when he had discovered that had been Ruby and informed him that Sam had been spending time with her while he had been downstairs. Bobby had never asked what 'spending time' had meant. He was still on the fence where Ruby was concerned. She had helped him fix the Colt, after all, and had saved both Dean and Sam in the past, but there was the unforgettable fact that she was a demon and therefore, could plain just not be trusted. She definitely had ulterior motives, Bobby just hadn't sussed out what they were yet.

Sam noticed Alex take a few subtle steps towards him and realized she must still be nervous that Ruby would attack her again. Understandably so, he thought. "She's here to help Dean," he announced, hoping to keep the peace.

He moved closer to Alex in an effort to reassure her she was in no danger, coming to stand with his bicep in contact with her shoulder. She didn't move away and continued eyeing Ruby with suspicion. If looks could kill, Alex was pretty sure she'd be stone cold dead by now. She started wondering if there was maybe a little somethin'-somethin' going on between Sam and Ruby. The demon bitch did seem almost jealous. Still, next to Sam was probably the safest place in the room right now so she was going to stay there, pissed off demon or not.

Bobby shrugged this latest revelation off, opened his duffel, and started hauling out books, tossing them on the bed. "Medallion of Eridu," he said. "I know I've read the name before, I just couldn't remember where. I didn't have time to go through all my books, so I brought a bunch with me. I know there's some sort of reference to it in one of these ones. If we can find out what it does and how it licks its balls, maybe we can neuter it."

"Then we could exchange it for Dean with no worries," Alex finished, admiring the plan and chuckling at Bobby's colourful choice of wording.

"Medallion of Eridu?" Ruby repeated, stunned look on her face. "Is that what this is about?" She gave Sam an accusatory stare.

Sam looked slightly guilty. "I think so. Dean said it to me on the phone."

"Do you have it?" she demanded incredulously.

"I think so," Sam he said again. "I have a medallion. I don't know for sure if it's that one."

"I take it you've heard of it?" Bobby asked the demon.

Ruby threw her hands in the air. "Oh, I've heard of it alright, Sam! Every demon's heard of it. But, like most, I thought it was a myth. A fairy tale." She looked straight at Sam, her eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation. "It's the friggin' atomic bomb for angel warfare."

Sam's shoulders slumped. "So it's true. It can be used to kill angels."

"Oh, it's way worse than that, Sam," she shook her head. "It's been said that every time an angel bites the dust using this thing, a seal on Lucifer's prison gets broken. Every. Single. Time. And if Lucifer himself gets a hold of it…" She let the sentence trail off.

Sam held her gaze for a moment, taking in the newest information with outward calm, despite his inner stab of terror. "Then if the demons get their hands on this, it's game over," he breathed, his hand moving subconsciously to his pocket where the medallion rested, still wrapped in the piece of cloth. "They'll just wipe out thirty or so angels and it's mission accomplished."

"Well, not necessarily," Ruby conceded. "If the demons can't get their hands on an angel in a human form, they can't kill it. So at the very least, it would pretty much put a stop to the angels walking freely among you like they do now. Not that that would bother me any, but it would seriously make rallying the troops on their side a lot harder. And it would leave a lot more of the heavy lifting to you and your brother."

Sam watched her as she spoke. She looked scared. Like she had when they had discovered Anna was an angel. Ruby had offered to die for him last year in Colorado, when she believed the only option that would see him surviving the night was to complete a spell that would kill all the demons within a mile, herself included. She had risked her neck with him on countless fights with demons since then. She didn't scare easily. But it was clear that angels terrified her. He wondered briefly what the difference was for a demon between being exorcised to Hell and being 'smited' by an angel.

"Okay, you guys lost me at atomic bomb."

Sam winced at the sound of Alex's voice. _Crap_. Dean had asked him not to let her in on the whole angel thing. Well, it was too late now. She stood next to him with a confused look on her face.

"Well, there's maybe a bit more to the situation than we've let on," he admitted with a sigh.

"No, really?" she said, sorry for her sarcastic tone but unable to help herself. She agreed the Winchesters were under no obligation to spill all their secrets, especially since it had been her that had asked to tag along with them, but all this talk of angels was starting to freak her out. Angels didn't exist, they couldn't exist. That had been a wacky dream two nights ago. Hadn't it?

She listened blank-faced as Sam filled her in on the monumental war that was going on under the nose of every human on earth. He explained gently that angels did exist and that a really powerful demon named Lillith was leading an army that was currently breaking seals on Lucifer's prison. Yes, Lucifer was real. Yes, God was real, as far as he could figure. The demons needed to open sixty-six seals to free Lucifer and bring about Hell on Earth, the Apocalypse. Yes, the biblical one. Yes, literally Hell on Earth. And Lillith had already opened thirty-four.

"Thirty-five," Ruby corrected.

Thirty five. The angel Castiel had asked Dean to retrieve the medallion before the demons got their hands on it and to keep it safe.

"Castiel?" Alex's head snapped up at the mention of the angel's name. "As in, Cas? The hot guy from my dream the other night?"

"Yeah, that was him," he smiled. "And you really need to stop calling him hot. That's just creepy."

"Wait a minute," Ruby interrupted for the second time, turning to Alex. "Castiel came to you in a dream?" she demanded hotly.

Alex seemed unsure. She looked to Sam, who answered for her. "No," he said. "Cas came to Dean. She just saw him."

"In Dean's dream?" Bobby spoke up for the first time since Sam had started explaining the situation and even he sounded skeptical.

"Yeah, I guess. Look, wrong place, wrong time," Sam didn't want to get into Alex's ability to perceive angels in their true visage right now, especially in front of Ruby. The blonde had just been given a lot of really big and really bad news to deal with so adding to her self-perceived freak status right now would just be unkind. "Now that everybody's up to speed, can we please just concentrate on getting Dean back?" _This was why he usually did it alone when the stakes were high. No need to waste time on team pow-wows. He could just do what he wanted, no questions asked, no opinions offered, no feelings to hurt or worry about but his own._

That suggestion was enough for Bobby. He snapped his attention right back to the thirty or so books he had emptied from his duffel, picking up a large brown one. He turned to Ruby.

"You know a way to destroy the medallion? Or make it harmless to angels?"

Ruby just shook her head.

"Well, I remember reading something, somewhere, a lot of years ago. There's some way of taking the medallion's power. We need to find out what it is and do it quick, 'cause Dean's only got about eight hours left." He tossed a book in turn to Sam, Alex, and Ruby. "Get readin'."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Wednesday's dawn was starting to sneak slivers of natural light through the curtains of the motel room where the four flipped through books, scanning pages and pictures, searching for any mention of the Medallion of Eridu. Fatigue and lack of success were making the researchers irritable. A few seconds after the cheap motel clock flicked to read six-thirty and after draining his third cup of coffee, Sam gave an excited shout.

"Hey! I think I've found it!" he cried, jumping up. He flipped the book he was reading around and slid it over the table to Bobby, jabbing his finger excitedly at the open page.

The mechanic pushed aside his own book and turned his attention to what Sam had found in a turn of the century crackpot hunter's journal that had somehow found its way to Bobby's library. The older hunter read the single paragraph aloud.

"The Medallion of Eridu was created as an offering to Lucifer around the year 60 BC by Thanin, a high level demon who was said to have gathered a significant following and planned the last serious attempt to free Lucifer from his imprisonment. The medallion was instilled with very powerful dark magic that can have an adverse affect on the Soldiers of Heaven should it be brought close to one who walks among us, trapping them in their human vessel and weakening them. It is rumoured that the medallion can, in fact, slay an Angel upon physical contact, ripping God's influence from its being. After the failure of Thanin's army, the medallion was placed under the protection of a secret brotherhood of man, where it remains safe to this day." Bobby looked up, looking disappointed.

"Is that all there is?" Alex asked from where she sat curled around her book in a chair at the table, absently twirling her finger in the end of a long strand of her hair.

"Nothing on destroying it?" Ruby added. She was sitting cross-legged on the center of one of the beds, a distance apart from the humans in the room.

Bobby shook his head, still reading. "Nah. But it does say that the hunter's source was the Carligan Book of Demons and Demonic Artifacts." He read the last sentence to the others. "This ancient text contains a detailed account of the known history of the medallion as well as theories of its creation and destruction."

Sam looked expectantly at the older hunter. "You got that text, Bobby?"

Bobby slumped his shoulders. "I wish," he griped. "But I know who does."

"Can we call them?" Alex asked. "Maybe get them to email the pages over?"

Bobby snorted. "Not likely. Backwoods, antisocial, stubborn ass of a hunter named Jackson. He lives in a cabin near Ulysses, Kansas in the middle of freakin' nowhere. He's what you could call old school. He don't even have a phone." Bobby sat back in his chair before adding with an impressed nod, "But what he does have is one of the best collections of books on demons I've ever seen."

Sam pushed back his chair and stood up, frustration and anger evident in his voice as he spoke. "So we're nowhere! A book in Kansas doesn't do Dean any good here!"

"Calm down son," Bobby said, keeping his cool as always. "We'll figure this out. We'll get him back."

"Okay. Okay." Sam clenched his teeth in an effort to divert the anger that was rising again within him at the thought of his missing brother. "So we can't destroy it or take its power away; at least not by noon. And we can't give them the real medallion. That only leaves us one option. We need to find a ringer I can take to the exchange," he said.

"I don't like it." Ruby snapped at the mention of the exchange. "This whole thing stinks. They're not gonna let either of you two just walk away. You're Sam and Dean Winchester; they want you dead almost as much as they want this medallion. This has trap written all over it."

"Of course it's a trap," Alex snorted with a distasteful glance at the brunette. "They're demons aren't they?"

Ruby gave an indignant toss of her head. "You're racist, you know that?"

"I am not," Alex threw back. "I hate white demons, black demons, Asian demons, Jewish demons. Hell, I even hate Canadian demons. All with equal enthusiasm."

Bobby, not wanting to fuel the fire, tried to hide his smile but with little success. Sam barely looked up as he lifted his hand and casually said "Come on guys," a look of concentration on his face as he worried about getting Dean back safely. He was used to the incessant bickering and low jabs between Dean and Ruby on the rare occasion they spent any time in the same room so he wasn't really surprised that Alex and Ruby weren't any different. After all, Ruby didn't exactly make much of an effort to get along.

"Even if we get a fake, what do we do if Dean's been possessed?" Alex asked, throwing an apologetic look at Sam for even suggesting the unpleasant possibility that had been nagging at her. "I'm sorry, but this is demons we're talking about. He may be one of them. He'll know you're not going to use the knife on him and I doubt he's going to sit still while you... uh, read out an exorcism." She remembered that Bobby didn't know about Sam's abilities and tactfully refrained from mentioning them.

Sam shook his head. "Not a problem," he assured her. Dean and I both have protection tattoos that permanently prevent us from being possessed. They can't get inside him and a demon can't slice or burn off the tattoo."

"That's what they're for!" Alex exclaimed in realization. "I noticed the matching tats on you both back in Indiana last year but I just figured it was a Winchester thing."

Ruby let out a snort. "Why does that not surprise me?" she mumbled with a condescending tone. "Goldilocks gets around."

Alex gritted her teeth at the insinuation. She had actually seen both of the Winchesters' tattoos on separate occasions when they were injured. Well, there was also the time Sam had come out of the shower in nothing but a towel; she wouldn't be forgetting that sight anytime soon, but again - perfectly innocent. This jealous demon bitch was really getting on her last nerve. "What can I say?" she spat at Ruby with a sneer. "You really haven't lived until you've been the meat in a Winchester sandwich."

Sam let out a small cough and flushed, uncomfortable at being dragged into the feud that was definitely turning catty.

Bobby just let out a mild snort, unfazed as usual. "If you two ladies don't mind retracting the claws for five minutes, maybe we can concentrate on getting the missing slice of Winchester bread back before the demons turn him into toast."

Alex shrugged sheepishly. "You're right. I'm sorry. Okay, so how do we get a fake medallion on such short notice?"

Sam twitched his lip into a crooked smile. "Well, I have an idea about that," he answered her with a twinkle in his eye, reaching for his laptop. "You remember Raiders of the Lost Ark?"

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC...**_

_Next chap... Rescue attempt and an unexpected relative shows up..._


	8. Nobody's Possessing Anybody

**Chapter 8 - Nobody's Possessing Anybody**

Their search on Ebay turned up a score of 'Raiders' medallion replicas, one 24kt gold one being offered by a seller just over two hours away. When Sam suggested Bobby go pick it up as they were short on time, Bobby snorted and jerked his thumb towards Alex.

"Let Danika here go. She drives worse than your brother. She'll be back in plenty of time," he suggested. Taking no offense, Alex laughed and stood up to pull her jacket on. She was used to comments on her driving; her brother had been griping at her to slow down for years, especially in his car.

While the blonde was away, Sam and Bobby continued trying to dig up any information they could on the medallion with no luck. Ruby tried her few demon contacts and even some witch locator spells to try and find where the demons were holding Dean but to no avail.

Needing to get out of the confines of the room for a few minutes, Sam volunteered to go on a Java run to the nearby diner. Finding a small amount of tension relief in the warm breeze and the morning sun, he stood for a brief moment as he closed his room door behind him, stretching his shoulders on the porch before moving on. As he passed Alex's adjacent motel room, he noticed the door was open and peered in warily, hand reaching surreptitiously for the pistol tucked in the back of his pants. There was no way she was back yet, no matter how fast Bobby said she drove. He noticed the motel manager that had checked them in standing just inside the room.

The manager caught his gaze and called out to others in the room the hunter couldn't see. Stepping out onto the porch, he spoke to Sam.

"I remember you. You and Mr. Rhoads checked in with Ms. Kiedis." The words were spoken as an accusation. "Where is she?" he demanded as he was joined by a clean cut man in an expensive suit who had emerged from the room.

Realizing 'Ms. Keidis' was Alex, Sam couldn't help but smile as he now understood why she and Dean had been laughing coming out of the motel check-in office referring to her as 'Mrs. Chili Pepper'. Dean's risky habit of using obvious rock aliases was not a good one for the blonde to pick up and Sam figured he should probably mention to his brother not to encourage her – the repercussions could be serious.

"I don't know, I think she left town," Sam answered carefully. "What are you doing in her room, man?"

The man in the suit answered for him, taking a step around the sleazy-looking manager to stand confidently in front of the tall hunter. "My name is Bryce Dennison. Lexie is my niece," he said smoothly. "I have some family news to discuss with her. Do you know when she'll be back?" Sam couldn't help but notice that the friendly smile the man gave him was not unlike Josh's.

"Like I said," he replied, a bit coldly, "I think she left town." It was clear this was Alex's uncle, the psychiatrist who was trying to have her committed.

"She left a few items in the room," the man jabbed his thumb back towards the open doorway. "So I expect she'll be coming back. Tell me, how do you know my niece? Are you her boyfriend?"

"Uh, no," Sam replied, taking a step back as two rather large men emerged from the girl's room. He narrowed his eyes at Dennison. "Family issues my ass."

The man stiffened his shoulders slightly. "Young man," he sighed, obviously not impressed that the two men had shown themselves. "I am exactly who I say I am. But I'm afraid my niece may not have been entirely honest with you about who she is."

Sam snorted, folding his arms across his chest defiantly. "Doesn't matter. She's long gone."

"I just need to talk to her, please." The man actually sounded sincere.

"I know what you want," Sam snapped. "If you just wanted to talk to her, you wouldn't have brought your goons from the Oceanview Psychiatric Facility!" He pointed to the logo on the matching jackets the muscled pair wore.

Dennison's jaw clenched slightly at getting busted but he threw Sam a look of admiration for his skills of observation. "Okay, son. It's obvious my niece has told you at least some of her version of the truth." He waved his hand at the two burly men standing behind him, signaling them to move away. They walked obediently over to the white van parked a couple of doors down, leaning patiently against it and awaiting further instructions from their boss. The motel manager, however, let his curiosity rule and stood his ground, ignoring the disapproving look the man in the suit threw his way.

Alex's Uncle Bryce turned back towards Sam. "You're not going to tell me where she is, are you?" he asked.

Sam almost laughed. "So you can lock her up?" he scoffed. "Not a chance."

"Listen, I don't know how much she's told you but my niece is in need of serious help."

"Your niece would be fine if you had helped her brother out and used your influence to keep him out of jail," Sam accused.

The man looked slightly guilty. "I love my nephew," he said, quite convincingly. "He's my sister's son, my family. If I'd have had the power to prevent his unfortunate current situation, I would have done so."

Sam said nothing and gave the man a stony stare. Dennison gave the motel manager another dirty look before turning back to Sam. "Can we have a private conversation?" he asked in a hushed voice, gesturing towards Alex's open motel room door.

Sam huffed impatiently. He really didn't need this complication right now. He needed to concentrate on getting Dean back but he couldn't afford to cause any trouble. He'd give the guy five minutes before slipping away and firing a warning call to Alex. He nodded his begrudged agreement.

"Two minutes. That's all," he said curtly.

The psychiatrist smiled and called over to the goons by the van. "Jared! Jensen! Wait out here. I'll just be a few minutes!"

The hunter followed him into the room reluctantly, giving the manager an unfriendly glare of warning not to follow. "Someone's gonna pay for the hole in the wall in there, pal!" the manager spat as the door was closed in his face.

Sam guessed the doctor was in his mid to late forties but was a handsome man and looked good for his age. He had an athletic build and short, brown hair speckled with grey. His tanned face, blue eyes, and deep dimples bore an uncanny resemblance to Josh, but he had an arrogant air about him that his laid back nephew certainly did not. His well-tailored suit was a far cry from the cheap ones Sam and Dean kept stuffed in the Impala's trunk for the fed gigs.

The doc got right to business, handing Sam a business card. "You obviously know that I am who I say I am," he began. "I am Lexie's uncle. What you probably don't know is that my niece is a very disturbed young woman who really does need help. I don't want to hurt her, I just want to see that she gets the proper treatment for a condition she has."

"She doesn't have a condition." Sam wasn't even going to pretend to hide his annoyance. Too many times in his life had he been thought of as crazy. Kids in school giving him weird looks in the hallways, calling him freak when he had let a small comment slip about something real that only his family seemed aware of. "She's not crazy."

"No, she's not," the doctor agreed quickly. "Most of the time she's as normal as you or me. And she's funny, smart, and very sweet - not to mention easy on the eyes." He smiled knowingly at Sam with his last statement, obviously still thinking the hunter had romantic intentions towards his niece. "I understand that you want to look out for her but trust me when I say this; letting me help her is the best way you can do just that."

He stood firmly facing the hunter with his arms folded confidently across his chest. Getting no reaction from Sam, he continued.

"I'm sorry, I've been rude. What is your name, son? Your real name, that is, for I very much doubt it's Randy Rhoads as listed on the motel registry."

"Sam." Giving his first name couldn't hurt.

"Well, Sam, how long have you known Lexie?"

"Long enough."

"Have you ever noticed she gets hurt a lot?" he paused and subtly studied Sam's reaction. Yeah, this guy was definitely related to Josh, Sam thought, amused at the scrutiny. "She probably manages to explain these injuries away. Car accident, fell down some stairs, maybe a sports injury?"

Sam still didn't answer, wishing the guy would just get to the point. As if sensing the younger man's impatience, Dennison did just that.

"She suffers from a form of Persecutory Delusional Disorder, Sam, and shows signs of schizophrenia and self-injurious behavior. She has reoccurring delusions of an enemy, a monster, to be exact - something not even human - that is supposedly hurting her. Unfortunately, the truth is, she's hurting herself. The psychosis is so complete that she has no idea she's doing it. She really does believe that an evil, shadow-monster is after her."

"Ever occur to you that it could be true?" Sam challenged. To Hell with keeping quiet to civilians. This was one civilian that needed to just open his eyes and see the whole scary truth sitting right in front of him. _Arrogant bastard thinks he has it all figured out and he doesn't have a clue._

Dennison looked at him, brow furrowed. "She's told you?" he said, a disbelieving look on his face that quickly turned to confusion. "You don't believe her delusions, do you?" he shook his head. "I know she can be convincing, but if you play into it you're hurting her further. I keep trying to explain this to her brother…"

"Her brother believes it because he's seen it!" Sam snapped.

"Of course Joshua has never seen it!" the doctor argued, raising his voice slightly also. "He believes it because his little sister means the world to him and he just can't accept that she's unbalanced."

Sam huffed his frustration at the man's inability to see the truth. Alex had admitted the demon usually showed up while she was alone so it was plausible that Josh had never seen it but that didn't make it any less real.

"You can ask him, Sam. He freely admits he's never actually laid eyes on the so-called monster. Just the aftermath. Let's be sensible here. You seem like an intelligent young man."

Sam gave up the argument, realizing the man wasn't going to change his mind.

"I have proof," Dennison stretched out his arm towards Sam, offering him a flash drive.

"What's that?"

"It's everything. Lexie's entire life. Including an audio recording of a 9-1-1 call that my niece placed to the Detroit emergency line a few years ago. Did you know she tried to kill herself? She slit both of her wrists. Unfortunately, she had moved on by the time I heard about it and tracked her down. There's also some security video footage of her that was taken in my facility eight years ago. This is proof that the only thing that's a danger to Lexie is Lexie."

"So how'd you track her here?" Sam asked curiously, not taking the flash drive from the doctor. "The phone," he answered himself in realization, not waiting for a reply.

"Yes," Dennison admitted. "I was informed of an arrangement in the prison regarding my nephew and when I questioned Ms. Mendoza, she gave me the phone number Lexie had given her." He was still gesturing for Sam to take the drive.

"Look Doc, I've got things I have to get back to." Sam said with his arms still folded. He hated the man already. He hated his closed mind. He hated his unacceptance. He hated his ignorance, no matter how well-intentioned he may seem.

Eventually the doctor sighed and put it down on the table. "Very well," he relented. "I'm going to leave this here for you. I implore you, if you care at all about my niece, you'll please, please, look at this and let me help her. She can get better but only with the proper care."

He studied Sam for a brief moment before moving towards the door. As he stepped outside, he suddenly turned back to face him. "I love my niece, Sam. Surely you have family you care about. Please let me help my family."

Sam waited until they were all in the van and pulling out of the motel's driveway before he dialed Alex's number. He scooped up the flash drive as well as the few belongings Alex had left in the room and headed quickly back to his room, instructing Bobby and Ruby to pack up because they had to leave the motel right away. He had no doubts Dennison would be calling the police soon - if he hadn't already done so. He headed over to the motel manager's office, figuring he should pay for the damage Ruby had caused when she attached Alex to avoid the cops having any further reason to try to find him.

Alex did indeed make fast work of the trip and got back into town before eleven o'clock. Sam met her at a gas station down the street from an old abandoned building the group had decided to make their temporary headquarters. He could tell she had been shaken up on the phone when he had informed her of her uncle's visit but she hadn't asked him for any specifics and didn't bring up the subject now that she was back.

The fake medallion did look a lot like the real thing. Bobby switched the red stone out for a green one he had found in some gaudy jewelry from the local department store.

"The fake's got a bird on it," Alex said doubtfully, though admiring Bobby's handiwork once the switch was made. "I think this is supposed to be an angel," she held up the real one in her other hand, studying the carvings on the front.

"Nobody's seen this thing in over two thousand years," Bobby pointed out. "My money says these demons don't know what the real one's supposed to look like."

"Dean's life may depend on that," Sam reminded his friend, jumping up and reaching quickly for his phone as it rang from his pocket.

"Hello?" he answered anxiously, not liking that the call display read 'blocked number'.

"_Winchester. You got the goods?"_ It was the smooth voice of the demon he had spoken to the previous night.

"Let me speak to my brother," Sam demanded, wanting some reassurance Dean was still alive before he admitted to having anything.

_"He's busy. Do you have the medallion or not?"_ the demon snapped.

"Yes!" Sam snapped back. "But you don't get anywhere near it unless I speak to my brother! I need proof he's still alive before I make any kind of trade."

A pause. _"Adriana, honey, his brother wants to know he's alive._" The words were directed at someone else on his end of the phone conversation in an almost jovial tone that made the young hunter nervous.

There was another pause during which Sam unconsciously held his breath. Then he heard his brother. Not speaking to him like he had hoped, calling his name or making some smart-ass crack about the rejects holding him captive. What he heard was Dean screaming. Screaming in agony.

"Alright! Alright! Stop!" Sam yelled into the phone, cursing himself for indirectly causing Dean more pain. He was going to kill every last one of these demons if it was the last thing he ever did.

"_Enough proof for you?"_ the demon taunted. "_'Cause if you want more, I'd be more than happy to oblige_."

"Just tell me when and where you want me to go." Sam wanted this over with. He wanted his brother back now.

"_Oh we don't want you anywhere_," the demon replied. "_We're not that stupid_."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam demanded. "Do you want the medallion or not?"

"_Here's how it's gonna work,"_ the demon said sternly. "_You're gonna make your way to the rear parking lot of the WalMart. You're gonna park your ass by the lampost in the middle where it's nice and empty and we can keep our eye on you. Ain't none of us wantin' a return ticket to Hell just yet, Sammy boy."_

Sam stifled a snort. It didn't matter where he was. He would still send them screaming back downstairs the minute they approached him for the medallion. "Fine," he agreed. "When?"

"_Not so fast,"_ the demon continued. "_While we keep our eye on you, you send the girl over here with the medallion, and we turn your brother over to her."_

Sam blinked, a bit startled by the demon's unexpected request. "What girl?" he covered quickly. "There's just me here," he lied.

The demon released a laugh completely devoid of mirth. "_Please, Winchester. Don't insult me. Your little blonde friend is with you right now. You met her at the gas station on Younge Street about half an hour ago."_

Sam's head spun to look at Alex in surprise. She, Bobby, and Ruby were all staring back at him, listening intently to his side of the conversation, anxious to know if Dean was okay and what the plan was. Sam refused to go along with the demon's suggested plan, hoping Dean wasn't about to pay the price. "She's just a chick I picked up in a bar," he lied. "I don't even know her. She'll never do this. I'll meet you and hand over the medallion as promised. I'm not going to hurt you, I just want my brother back."

"_Well then Sam, you'd better turn on the famous Winchester charm because if she doesn't bring us the medallion, your brother's as good as dead. You've got ten minutes to convince her. I'll call you back."_ The phone disconnected.

"What was that all about?" Bobby asked on behalf of the three in the room not privy to both sides of the conversation.

"They won't deal with me," Sam spat, clenching his fists, fighting the urge to fling his phone at the wall. He never thought the demons being afraid of him would turn around and bite him in the ass... bite _Dean_ in the ass.

"They'd rather have Dean than the medallion?" Ruby asked skeptically.

"No," Sam clarified. "But they want me to stay out of the way, in the freaking WalMart parking lot where they can keep an eye on me and they want Alex to take them the medallion in exchange for Dean."

"No way," Ruby said quickly, shaking her head. "They'll just kill them both." It was surprisingly said with no malice towards the blonde.

"Ya think?" Bobby agreed with his usual sarcasm, looking back at Sam. "They must be scared of getting close to you with Ruby's knife." Sam averted his eyes briefly, feeling a pang of guilt about Bobby's ignorance of the real reason the demons were afraid to get near him.

"I'll do it," Alex said simply.

Sam looked over and gave her a half-hearted smile. "Thanks Alex, but there's no way you're going in there."

"Well, I was assuming I'd have some back-up," she retorted. "Bobby here can take your superknife and I'm guessing this firecracker," she gestured towards Ruby, "can take on more than one of her own kind."

Sam shook his head. "It's not gonna happen. We don't even know how many of them there are. It's me going in or nobody."

"You might not have a choice, Sam," Alex argued. "You want your brother back don't you?"

"Of course I do!" Sam snapped, unable to hide his frustration. "But me going in there is the only way we can guarantee he gets out of there alive!"

"Maybe not, Sam," Bobby said thoughtfully, scratching his beard.

"I'm not going to stand by completely useless while you three take on a bunch of demons!" Sam nearly shouted. "And there's no way I'm letting Alex go in there!"

"What if I go in there?" Ruby offered.

Sam shook his head. "They've seen Alex already. They called her the blonde."

"Well, what if we both go in?" Ruby said hesitantly. "As a blonde. A faster, stronger blonde. Of course, they'd probably know it was me one I got close, but I'd be in the door by then."

It took a few seconds for Alex to put together what Ruby was suggesting. She was proposing that the demon possess her body to give her demon strength and fighting skills and go to the exchange as her.

"No way!" she hissed, taking a step away from Ruby. "You get all beat up and that's fine for you, but as soon as you un-possess me, I'm as good as dead. I know how that works. If my ass is gonna be put in harm's way, I want my brain in charge of getting it out alive, thank you! My well-being wouldn't exactly be your top priority."

Sam raised his hand. "Nobody's possessing anybody," he said with a disapproving glare at Ruby, who shrugged non-apologetically.

He turned towards Alex. "And you're not going anywhere. End of story."

She opened her mouth as if to argue further but he cut her off. "You said you'd do exactly what we said, remember?" he said hotly. "Part of our deal. And I say you stay here, out of harm's way."

Alex's head cocked sideways and her shoulders stiffened in annoyance. "Actually, I said I would do whatever _Dean_ said," she whipped back at him. "The deal was with him. And I don't hear him telling me not to go."

"You're arguing a technicality with me?" Sam said, incredulously. _Damn she was more like his stubborn brother than he had realized._

"Dean would say you stay out of this and you know it," Ruby pointed out.

"Would you kids stop your squabbling and listen?" Bobby raised his voice to be heard. "There might be a way this can work. Sam, do they know about Ruby and me?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno. They saw Alex come back from getting the medallion a half-hour ago. I don't know how long they've been watching us. They may not know you two are in here. Why? What do you have in mind, Bobby?"

"Well, son, you're not going to like it, but they've got us by the short and curlies and they know it. We need to split the demons up, better our chances. We can only take on so many at once. Here's what I have in mind, and if all goes well, we may not even need to use the ringer."

SPN-SPN-SPN

Dean slipped in and out of consciousness, the voices of his captors fading to and from reality. The word 'brother' brought his thoughts back into focus, if not his vision.

"Adriana, honey, his brother wants to know he's alive."

Sam. They must have been talking to Sam. That was probably good; it meant his brother was still free and likely not in their clutches. His eyes still closed, he suddenly felt a burning, searing pain on his chest, combined with the smell of burning flesh - _his_ burning flesh. _God he was so sick of that smell._ He screamed in shocked pain, unprepared as he hadn't seen this latest strike coming. The voices faded away for a few moments as he struggled to grasp at his last shred of consciousness and pull himself back from the impending darkness once again.

Success. He could hear them talking. He concentrated on their voices, using them as an anchor to awareness.

"I still say you're cowards." That was the voice of the redhead. _He was going to kill that bitch and enjoy every second of it._ "Imagine how pleased she'd be if we brought the Winchester boy to her, all gift wrapped with a fucking bow on his head!"

"We'll give her this one's head on a platter," Scruffy answered. "Lillith will be pleased enough."

"She won't give a damn about the Winchesters when we show up with the medallion and prove it's real," the leader snapped. "Remember she only gave us this assignment because she figured it was a hoax. Now that she's thinking there's some truth to it, she's already sent reinforcements because she doesn't think we can handle it. We need to get this done and fast before her superfreak gets here. The Winchester kid can be someone else's problem."

Dean liked the sound of that. Not so much the demons planning on killing him for Lillith, but the part where they decided to leave killing Sam out of the plan.

He was left alone for the next while. How long, he wasn't sure, but it was long enough for him to gather his wits and force his splitting headache, stinging chest wounds, and shredded forearms to the farthest reaches of his mind. His vision was relatively clear and close to full lucidity had returned before he heard voices again.

The familiarity of one of the voices made his heart skip a beat or two, returning from its brief hiatus to pound violently in his chest with renewed fear.

"I'm not saying anything until I see Dean." It was Alex's voice. No, it couldn't be her. There was no way Sam would have sent her into this mess. He must still be out of it. Delusional. That was it; his ears were playing tricks on him.

All doubts to that effect were erased a moment later when the redhead walked stiffly into the room followed by the pretty blonde. Dean clenched his teeth. This couldn't possibly end well. He was helpless, strapped firmly to the chair and unable to protect anyone.

Alex's eyes widened slightly in shock when they fell on Dean. His face, arms, and shirt were covered in blood. At least his eyes were open and he seemed alert, though definitely not pleased to see her. She walked briskly past the demons and over to his chair, laying her hand on his cheek for a brief moment before moving it gently around his hairline in search for the wound causing the sticky mess of blood around his temple.

"What are you doing here, Lex?" Dean croaked quietly, wincing as her fingers found the open wound.

"Okay, you've seen him. Where's the medallion?" the leader snapped at her.

She gave Dean a brief smile intended as encouragement before turning back to the demons in the room behind her.

"I don't have it on me," she said evenly. "Sam said I was to call him for the medallion's location once I had confirmed his brother was okay."

"There's something funny about her," the redhead said suddenly, giving Alex a wary look.

_Damnit, just once she would like to be normal_. Alex ignored her and pulled out her newly acquired cell phone, dialing Sam's number and biting her lip in impatience for the four seconds it took him to answer. "I'm in," she said into the phone. "He's fine, a bit roughed up and tied to a chair, but he's okay. But there are five angry people here waiting for your next piece of information."

As coached by Bobby and Sam, Alex made sure to keep up the pretense she didn't know anything and probably thought this was a regular human kidnapping. They would perceive her as less of a threat if they believed she knew nothing of demons. That ruse, of course, may have already been blown with the redhead sensing her. The hunters had also told her to be sure to slip into the conversation the number of demons that she could see as well as Dean's status. Would he be able to fight?

She listened into the phone for a minute then hung up and turned to the demons. "He says I'm to get his brother to the car then tell you where the medallion is."

The leader snorted. "Tell us now and when we have it in our hands, you can go. Otherwise, we just call it a day and kill you both."

Alex frowned. This was the answer they had expected but she had still clung to a small hope things would go down the easy way. "Fine. He says you're to go to room 106 of the Parkside Motel."

"Is the medallion there?" the leader snapped, obviously not pleased at being given the runaround.

Alex shrugged innocently. "I don't know, buddy. He told me if I do as he asks and help get his brother out of here he'd give me cash. I don't know anything else."

The leader gave her an intense look, studying her with narrowed eyes. Alex tried to look realistically scared and equally ignorant, hoping like Hell they would do as Sam ordered and not just kill her and Dean right there.

"We shouldn't play his game," the redhead warned. "We don't even know for sure that he has it."

"What does the medallion look like?" Scruffy demanded, glaring at Alex.

"It's gold and has engraved wings on it, weird writing, and a green stone in the middle," she replied, accurately describing both the real thing and the fake.

"That's gotta be it!" he turned back to his leader.

"So call him back and tell him to send it over now!" the redhead snapped. "Or we kill them!" She had a knife in her hand and was waving it threateningly at both captives.

"No," the leader said, a thoughtful look on his face. "He's never gonna hand it over that easily, he knows we'll just kill his brother and the bitch. We knew it was a long shot that he'd play ball so easily in the first place." He turned to the brunette. "The Winchester kid still there?"

The female demon had her phone to her ear and she nodded. _So they were keeping tabs on Sam._ A flash of amusement crossed her brain at the absurdity of the notion that these demons looked at the charming, compassionate, puppydog-eyed young hunter as their very own version of the boogie man.

"Yeah, he's in a car parked by the lamppost," the brunette was saying. Bobby had insisted Sam stay inside Ruby's car for cover. Demons weren't necessarily above taking him out with a well-placed sniper.

The leader nodded his approval. He barked his order at her and Scruffy. "You two go to this motel room and see what's there. We'll have to play this by ear. We've still got what he wants." He turned back to Alex, who was standing next to Dean's chair. "You. Sit!" he ordered, holding his arm out at her in threat.

Alex plopped down on the bench next to Dean, letting out a breath of relief as she did so. Things were going as planned so far. Two of the demons were going on the wild goose chase to retrieve the medallion, leaving only three here to take out. She had hoped three would leave but then, she was never that lucky. Neither, it would seem, was Dean.

The demons were over on the far side of the room, absorbed in a heated discussion about the varying degrees in which they all hated the way things were going down. She swung her legs sideways and turned her focus to Dean's wrists, wincing when she saw they were bound with barb wire.

"Jesus!" she gasped.

"What are you doing here?" Dean repeated his earlier question, quietly trying to convey his anger at her stupidity of walking into this situation.

"I'm trying my hand out at being Fred instead of Daphne," she joked, referring to her habit of being the one in need of rescue and her brother's teasing nickname because of it. She grinned at him. "I'm liking it. It feels pretty good."

"Leave the bastard where he is!" the moustached man snapped, mistaking her inspection of Dean's arm wounds as an attempt to undo the cruel bonds. The order was accompanied by a backhand to the side of Alex's face, knocking her off the bench and to the floor.

"You asshole! I'm not going anywhere!" Dean shouted in helpless anger as Alex picked herself off the floor and returned gingerly to her seat on the bench. The burly demon just glared at him before rejoining the other two by the doorway.

"Okay, that didn't feel so good," Alex admitted in a hushed tome, attempting to maintain some levity as her hand rubbed her throbbing jaw.

"I'm gonna kill Sam," Dean seethed through gritted teeth. "He had no right to send you in here."

"No right? Dean, he had no choice!" Alex argued, feeling suddenly sorry for the younger Winchester. As hard as he had argued against Bobby's plan, Sam really hadn't been given any other option and had finally reluctantly agreed. If anything went wrong and anyone got hurt, Sam would hold it very painfully on his conscience, of that she was sure.

"He tried but they wouldn't relent on the demand that he steers clear of the exchange," she defended. "You know, 'cause of his mojo-thing. Just be ready and keep your head down when things get noisy," she added in a barely audible whisper. Dean gave her a questioning look, not liking being kept out of the loop on this plan his brother had concocted.

About five uneventful minutes passed before things did indeed get noisy. The dirty-paned windows on the far wall suddenly shattered loudly as a slim brunette crashed through them, landing catlike in a crouched position on the floor. She stood up swiftly, turning towards Alex and tossing her a sawed-off shotgun before lunging at the first of the demons charging her way.

Alex followed Sam's orders to the letter. She pushed Dean's chair over to get him out of the line of possible fire, trying to let it drop on the ground as gently as she could but calling out a "Sorry!" when it landed with a solid thud. _Damn, that probably stung_, she thought, remembering the barb wire around his wrists. She then aimed the shotgun at the demons fighting across the room, standing her ground firmly over Dean, allowing Bobby and Ruby to do their thing.

Ruby was a good fighter, even by demon standards. Though coma-girl was petite, Ruby made up for it with her own speed and determination. She tackled the burly man with the moustache first, landing a series of hard punches on his face. As he straightened back up and landed a solid fist on her cheek, she leaned away from it, lessening the impact, and kicked him in the groin. Alex watched her fight for a few seconds, grudgingly impressed, until her attention was brought away by the redhead charging towards her and Dean.

"Shoot her!" Dean yelled from the floor, which Alex did, landing a blast of rock salt in the bitch's chest. The demon staggered back a few steps before being hit with a second round. Apparently two was enough, for she glared at both of them before turning to rejoin the fight against Ruby.

"Where the Hell is Bobby?" Alex wondered out loud, getting worried that the mechanic hadn't shown yet. He was supposed to come in the back door, armed with Ruby's knife and a shotgun of his own. Alex was starting to doubt that the Winchesters' demon could hold out much longer. After all, there were three demons of the unfriendly variety circling her. The blonde's feet twitched and she briefly debated trying to help Ruby out, but she had sworn to Sam that she would stay clear of things, not do anything too risky.

'_Just keep the bastards off Dean with the shotgun._' Sam had gone so far as to make her swear on her brother's life so she was going to obey him. Besides, she had never been good enough at fighting to take down super-powered demon-possessed foes. Sure she could throw a decent punch and deal out some pretty impressive kicks but she was the first to admit she lacked the muscles to take on more brawny foes in hand to hand combat.

"Bobby? Bobby's here too?" Dean asked, a new bud of fear blossoming inside for his oldest friend. However a wave of relief soon swept over him as he heard another shotgun blast from the direction of the melee and the mechanic's stocky form appeared in the rear doorway, smoking gun in hand.

Alex fired another blast of rock salt also, this time hitting the leader of the group as he made a dive for Dean, probably figuring threatening or killing him would end the attack. The round obviously stung like a sonofabitch, but he managed to keep coming. She emptied another in his chest then ducked as he took a powerful swing at her.

Ruby had been holding her own but without any weapons that could cause lasting damage, she was struggling. Bobby's arrival was a welcome relief and she gladly took her knife from him, making quick work of the moustached guy before turning to find the leader.

Alex successfully evaded the leader's swing, taking a step back to give her time to pump the shotgun. Dean, however, was not so lucky. Her retreat had moved her behind him and, still bound to the chair, he was unable to dodge the kick the leader aimed at him. He grunted in pain as his he took the hit square in his gut, his head bouncing off the hard, cement floor for what seemed like the twentieth time in the last twelve hours.

Figuring out Dean wasn't actually a threat at this moment, the leader turned back on Alex. Dean tried frantically to kick his feet out and throw him off balance and was heartened to hear the shotgun pump again and another shot sound right above his head. The leader staggered back at the third round Alex managed to land in his chest and this time never recovered as Ruby came up suddenly and thrust her knife into his back. As she pulled it out, Ruby watched the sparkles of light signifying the demon's demise flash through his rented body for a brief moment with a cold smirk of satisfaction.

Bobby blasted the redhead with another round of rock salt at close range, this one knocking her off her feet. He quickly doused her with holy water and started reciting a Latin exorcism with the skilled speed of an auctioneer as she squirmed on the floor. Ruby dashed over and slit the redhead's throat before the older hunter had a chance to finish. Standing with her hands on her knees and her breath coming in heavy pants, Ruby looked up, a line of blood trickling from her lower lip. "What took you so long, old man?" she questioned the mechanic.

Bobby scowled at her impertinence. "There was another one out back," he defended, stepping past her and heading quickly over towards Dean and Alex. It had been on Sam's insistence that he take the knife, even though it was clear Ruby could do more damage with it. The kid could be stubborn, but this time that Winchester stubbornness had saved Bobby's life since the knife had been needed to take out the strong demon on rear guard duty.

Bobby moved to check on Dean for himself, finding Alex struggling to pick his chair back up while apologizing profusely for allowing that last kick the injured hunter had been dealt. Grabbing an arm of the chair to help her, they both ignored Dean's growling. "Get me outta here," he griped testily, angered both by his pain and his frustration at being helpless during the entire fight.

Ruby made a hasty phone call to Sam. "Yeah, we got him. You're good to go," was all she said before hanging up and joining the others.

Bobby took the knife back from her and used it to cut the wires around Dean's wrists, wincing in sympathy as he pulled the barbs out of the hunter's torn forearms. He worked quickly and Dean was freed within seconds, standing up quickly only to find his knees weren't quite up to the task. He must have lost more blood than he had realized and when the older hunter moved in briskly next to him, he gratefully used Bobby's shoulder as a crutch.

"Where the Hell is Sam?" he managed, trying not to lean too heavily on the aging hunter as they headed out the back door to where the Bronco was parked, stepping over the bodies of the demons' hosts.

"He's fine," Bobby assured him.

"You sure?" Dean asked worriedly.

Bobby nodded, an apologetic grunt escaping his lips upon hearing Dean gasp in pain when he instinctively pulled at the younger man's wrist over his shoulder to boost him up a bit, momentarily forgetting about the fresh wounds Dean was sporting.

"Don't worry, the only thing hurt on that boy right now is his pride. He was none too pleased at being made to sit this one out." Bobby shook his head. "Argumentative little shit," he added with a fond smile.

"Yeah well, a bruised ego I can deal with," Dean replied, not needing to finish the thought out loud. Bobby would know exactly what he meant. That what he couldn't deal with was any other part of Sam being hurt.

Ruby was leading the way back to the car, her knife in her hand, and Alex was following close behind her. Dean noticed the blonde making an effort to avoid looking directly at the bleeding bodies littering the warehouse floor and a sudden wave of self-loathing rose within him. He had dragged her into this. Violence and danger followed him around a reaper on a leash, lashing out at anyone around him. This was his life.

They reached the Bronco and Bobby ducked out from under Dean, leaving him leaning heavily against the blue SUV's back passenger door.

"Mind if I drive?" the older man called over to the blonde. "You can patch him up." He flipped his thumb towards Dean.

Alex looked over the hood at the older man, not sure if he really wanted to drive or if he just didn't want her to drive. She had noticed his white knuckles on the grab-handle on the way over and had made a conscious effort to drive more slowly... obviously not enough. This guy was as bad as Josh. She grinned and tossed him the keys.

"What? No Nurse Bobby?" Dean smirked at his friend as he moved away.

"Trust me, I'm saving your ass," Bobby muttered under his breath.

"Your bedside manner sucks anyway, old man," Dean laughed, climbing in the back with Alex. He had to admit, as efficient as Bobby was at tending to injuries, it would without a doubt be a more pleasant experience having it done by the easy-on-the-eyes blonde. He knew how to ham it up for sympathy; he'd had plenty of experience with hot nurses in his lifetime.

The Plain White Tees '_Hey There Delilah'_ sailed rather loudly out of the vehicle's speakers as soon as Bobby turned the ignition. It took the older hunter more than a few seconds to figure out how to turn it down, Josh's Bronco being equipped with all sorts of added tech gear the likes of which Bobby's usual junkyard concoctions-on-wheels would never see. The GPS flickered on and beeped loudly and the digital police radio scanner flashed at him a few times before he discovered it was the iPod jack up top that was making the unwelcome noise. Bobby loudly grunted his annoyance, pressing random buttons in search of the off-switch.

"What kind of crap is this?" Dean scoffed at Alex's choice of music.

"What? Too current for you?" she teased, taking no offense as she tossed his ripped and bloodied overshirt aside to get a look at his forearms.

"No." Dean snorted back, closing his eyes and leaning back in the seat. "Too gay."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

They were to meet Sam at a nearby gas station and when the young hunter hadn't shown after fifteen minutes when the WalMart was only five minutes away, their worry was showing. After his much-needed visit to the station's facilities, Dean was filled in on all they had learned about the medallion while they waited. At the mention of angels, Dean quickly interrupted Bobby and shot a glance at Alex.

"I know about angels," she informed him, frowning slightly to express her annoyance at his deception regarding her 'angel dream' and her sleepwalking to the Impala incident.

"Sorry," he shrugged. "But now that you know what's going on you can see why I didn't want you involved. You need to get as far away from us as you possibly can. And soon."

Alex sighed. She had accepted that she wouldn't be enjoying the company of the Winchesters very long and she would be sorry to see them go. Especially now that she knew the end of the world was possibly right around the corner. Lillith had to be stopped. Her brother's last days couldn't be spent in jail.

"One more thing," Dean's voice had a tone that hinted she wouldn't like what he was going to say next. "You need to tell Bobby here everything you know about that red-eyed demon of yours because if anyone can figure out how to kill it, it's him. He's a friggin' walking encyclopedia when it comes to demons. Apocalyptic shitstorm or not, we'll solve your little problem for you, that's a promise."

Alex gasped and shook her head. "No, no, no. I told you last time, don't get any ideas." There was no way she was letting anyone else get hurt or killed trying to take on the demon that had been chasing her for years. Though she had never admitted it to the Winchesters, it had killed her own parents the first time she and Josh had tried to exorcise it, putting Josh in a coma in the process. And it had killed others. She couldn't possibly live with the guilt if someone else died trying to help her. Especially Dean... or Sam, of course.

"Besides," she continued, "I think you guys have enough on your plate with the whole Lucifer rising thing."

Sam chose just then to pull up in Ruby's car. Dean looked stricken.

"What the Hell? Where's my car?" he demanded.

Bobby winced, kicking himself for forgetting to ask about Dean's beloved Impala. "Uh, yeah, about that…"

"What?" Dean's face was near panic.

"We don't know where it is," Ruby said bluntly.

"We searched the gas station you were at and everywhere in between and couldn't find it," Alex added.

"Which gas station?" Dean shot back, giving his brother a stiff nod of acknowledgement as Sam walked up to him and put his hand on Dean's shoulder, his face expressing his relief to have his big brother back in one piece.

"The one up the street from the Laundromat," Alex supplied.

Sam wanted to give his brother a hug, or at least tell him he was glad he was okay, but Dean's attention seemed to be solely on his missing car.

Dean stood up, clearly annoyed that his baby had been left MIA for almost a day. "I didn't go to that station, I went to the one with the Quickie-Mart," he said crossly. "You know, 'cause they have those little chocolate marshmallow things that I like." He gave them a sheepish grin. "Take me back there now," he demanded, hopping in the passenger seat of the Bronco. "I need to find my car."

Alex was a bit surprised when Bobby jumped back in the driver's seat, (_her_ driver's seat!), but politely held her tongue and climbed into the back. Sam shot Ruby a quick look accompanied by a very subtle nod before getting into the Bronco also, leaving the demon to follow the rest of them alone in her beat-up, stolen muscle car.

The Impala was right where Dean had been tasered, rims and all still intact much to his immense relief. He jumped out before the SUV had even come to a complete stop, rushing over and caressing his beloved beauty's hood with his fingers.

"They need to get a room," Bobby snorted, turning off the ignition and getting out.

Dean opened the Impala's door and rooted gingerly through the plastic bags still sitting on the seat, still feeling the pain in his newly bandaged wrists and arms from the barbed wire. He pulled out one of the whiskeys, tipping the bottle up to his lips and taking a long, satisfying drink.

"Hope you're not planning on driving," Alex smiled at him, only half in jest.

Dean guiltily put the cap back on the bottle - he had every intention of driving.

"Okay," he turned to Sam, a look of relief on his face. "I feel better. Nobody's hurt, we still have the medallion, and my baby's safe." He turned to Bobby. "What's our next move?"

Bobby didn't look surprised at having Dean look to him so blatantly for instruction. Sam had noticed that since John Winchester's death, Dean had been seeking out the older hunters' advice and company more and more, an obvious attempt to fill a hole left by the absence of their father. But, even though Dean had always respected the mechanic's opinion and trusted his intel, things had changed further since his time in Hell. Dean now looked to Bobby for more than advice. He was constantly looking for reassurance and guidance. It was as if he didn't quite trust himself and his own judgment anymore. The confidence he once had that used to borderline on arrogance was gone.

And it wasn't just with Bobby. Dean was still bossy but the dynamic between he and Sam had changed also. Orders weren't barked out with complete assumption that they would be obeyed by the dutiful younger brother. Dean hesitated more often and even on occasion obeyed a sharp order that Sam would give in the heat of the moment without even acknowledging the fact that it hadn't been his order. He had always doubted his self-worth, but now he seemed to doubt far more than that. Sam's big brother was on shaky ground and Sam knew it. He wasn't as strong as he once was. He wasn't as strong as Sam was. And this latest incident certainly wasn't going to help him sort through his issues.

Bobby leaned back against the Bronco, still holding the blonde's keys. He ignored Ruby as she got out of her car and came to stand with the small group. "I need to go get the book from that hermit Jackson," he announced. "Figure out how to flick the off switch on that medallion and get the neon bullseye off you and Sam's backs. I suggest you all get out of town. Try to stay out of trouble." The last sentence was directed accusingly at Dean.

"That may not be so easy," Ruby spoke up, hands on her hips. "I just found out that Lillith has called in for reinforcements. A specialist. She knows the medallion's real and she knows you have it and she wants it bad."

"What do you mean by a specialist?" Dean asked, eyes narrowed. The last couple of times he had heard the term specialist in this war, it had been referring to Uriel and Alistair, both of whom were bad news with a capital B.

"Nothing good," was Ruby's vague reply.

"Okay, that changes things," Bobby thought out loud. "I still need to get to Ulysses, but I suggest you idjits lay low for a couple of days. A hunter friend of mine has a cabin in the woods about three hours from here, near Reichert, Oklahoma. It's got all the necessary protection, you should be safe there."

Dean was nodding in agreement when Sam spoke up, voicing his frustration. "No. No, we can't just hide out. We don't have to. We need to _stop_ hiding."

Bobby and Dean widened their eyes and stared at him disbelievingly.

"We don't need to hide," Sam repeated. "We just took out seven demons! It's time to start fighting." He was tired of running from this fight, of slinking away with his tail between his legs after every tough confrontation. He was extremely thankful that Dean was okay, but his brother needed to see this victory as a sign that they could take Lillith; that they didn't need to run any more. Sam needed Dean to stop being scared. He needed Dean to forget about Hell and take the enemy head on like he always had before.

"Uh, don't you mean four?" Bobby questioned.

"Huh?" Sam gave the mechanic a blank stare.

"Four demons. We took out four demons," Bobby reminded him. "Not seven."

Sam noticed Dean narrowing his eyes, studying him as he answered. "Yeah, uh, I was including the three from Brian's house," he lied, avoiding his big brother's gaze. Dean was good at seeing through Sam when he was lying. Sam didn't want his brother to know he had left the WalMart parking lot as soon as Ruby had called to say Dean was safe and had exorcized the demon he had spotted watching him from the distance, ignoring the desperate pleas as the smoke had started spewing from its mouth on its way back to Hell. He had then raced over to the Parkside Motel, waited for the other two to show up looking for the medallion, and made quick work of them also. But what he really didn't want Dean to know is how much he had enjoyed doing it. The satisfaction he felt from hurting those that had harmed and threatened his brother had been intensely gratifying.

"Why'd you take so long to get to the rendezvous Sam?" Dean asked suddenly, a suspicious look on his face. He had been noticing a lot of small things recently, signs his brother was hiding something from him, but had yet to call him on it.

"I hate to break up the party, but we need to haul ass," Ruby interrupted. "Sam, in this case, you're wrong. If what I hear is right, we don't want to go head to head with what she's sending after you. Not yet."

Sam, although thankful Ruby had prevented him from being found out about using his powers again, was surprised she was suggesting they run. Usually she was the one pushing him to face the demons they came across. The fact that she wasn't this time had him slightly worried about what Lillith had sent after them now.

"If we destroy the medallion, she may call it off," Ruby added, though her shoulder shrug made her belief in the comment less than convincing.

"What is it exactly?" Dean asked. "This thing she's sent after us."

"They call him Agramon. He's supposed to be some sort of demon master of fear. He usually doesn't play well with others and was never interested in helping Lillith or Azazel with their big plans but he heard about the medallion and offered up his services. He's apparently got a beef with the angels."

"Hmph, who doesn't?" Dean snorted, ignoring Alex's questioning look.

"I don't know much else about him," Ruby finished. "Except that he's really powerful and really twisted and he's on his way here now."

Bobby sighed, shaking his head. "I'm getting too old for this shit," he mumbled, looking up to catch Dean's eye.

"I'll give you directions to Marty's cabin," he said. "Like I said before," his expression grew stern as he turned to face the younger Winchester, "you boys need to lay low for a few days. At least until I can get the book we're after."

"Shouldn't we come with you, Bobby?" Dean said, not liking the idea of letting Bobby go off alone with this new bad-ass demon throwing his gauntlet into the ring. He usually preferred to stay out of Kansas, but for Bobby's sake he'd go anywhere.

Bobby shook his head. "No, son, Jackson's a mean old bastard who, quite frankly, couldn't stand your daddy. I'm one of the very few people he'll even let near his place without gettin' a round of buckshot in the ass. The bugger apparently appreciates my love of literature. You'll be better off at Marty's cabin. Marty's a good hunter and he's got the place demon-proofed. This fear-master friend of hers," he jerked his thumb at Ruby who gave him an irritated sneer, "will never get in".

It seemed all was agreed and Alex found herself saddened at having to say goodbye. She turned to Dean and Sam who were standing next to her. "I guess this is where I have to head off." She smiled weakly, trying to prevent her voice from hitching. "You know, gotta get line dancing in Nashville."

Bobby glanced up, brow furrowed. "Can I talk to you boys for a second?" he said to the Winchesters, jerking his head and moving off to the side. Both hunters followed him obediently, leaving Ruby and Alex standing awkwardly by the Impala.

"What's up, Bobby?" Dean asked curiously.

"Well, I ain't so sure lettin' the gal go off by herself is the smartest thing to be doing right now," the mechanic replied quietly.

"What do you mean? She can't stay with us!" Dean argued vehemently. "The farther she is from us, the safer she is."

"Bobby has a point, Dean." Sam had been thinking along the same lines as Bobby. "The demons knew about her. They were watching me and they specifically requested that she go in to the exchange. They probably sensed her, too, when she went in to get you with Ruby and Bobby. If they catch up with her out of town somewhere, she's as good as dead and, not to sound callous, but she knows where we're going and they'll make her talk."

"Sensed?" Bobby looked confused.

"Yeah," Dean explained. "She has a weird psychic mojo thing going on where some demons can sense her and vice versa."

"What? Is she the girl you told me about from Indiana a few months back? With the built-in demon radar?" Bobby was squinting with concentration, obviously trying to remember what the boys had told him about that case.

They both nodded in unison.

"Well shit," the older hunter looked displeased. "Then she's definitely not safe alone. Not until we destroy this medallion." He shook his head. "You boys gotta stop picking up troublesome strays," he muttered as they headed back over to the women.

"At least I'm not renting one out!" Alex spat at Ruby as they approached, an obvious retort to an underhanded comment the smirking demon had just made.

Sam huffed in exasperation at the two, who were plainly still not getting along. "Please, can we just knock it off for a little while?" he pleaded.

"What's this about?" Dean leaned over and asked quietly in Bobby's ear.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Maybe the four of you all together isn't such a good idea, after all," he grimaced, before adding more loudly. "Let's just say Betty and Veronica here don't exactly see eye to eye."

Sam grinned at his brother. "You think you had a bad night; try being cooped up in a motel room with these two."

Alex was so delighted with the suggestion that she stick with them for a couple more days that she gladly offered Bobby the use of Josh's Bronco to go get the book, warning him about the weapons in the back in the event he got pulled over. She hid her slight offense to the notion that she would get herself caught and couldn't take care of herself, willing to swallow her pride and accept the offer to go with them to the cabin.

After all, less than twelve hours ago she had found out that there was a good chance Lucifer, yes the Devil himself, would soon be walking free, bringing with him the death and destruction of everything she cared about. She was fairly sure she was managing to cover well enough, but her stomach was churning and her head was spinning with fear about what that might mean. About what would happen to her brother. Would she even get to see him again before it was all over? If these guys were trying to stop it, then she would do whatever it took to help them. She didn't want to twiddle her thumbs in Nashville while all this was going down. This fight was way too big to sit it out. It couldn't be a complete lost cause; after all, these guys had angels on their side. Angels who actually came to Earth to have one on one chats with the brothers. As far as she was concerned, the Winchesters were like superheroes. Comic book caliber superheroes.

Ruby definitely didn't look pleased but nodded her agreement at the reasoning behind the decision. Alex getting herself caught would indeed endanger Sam and apparently, that mattered to the demon, even if Alex's well-being didn't. The demon informed the younger Winchester she would head off on her own and try to pick up some more intel on Lillith's plans and the group piled into the cars and drove off in three separate directions.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_Next chap... Agramon, the Demon of Fear :-) Hope y'all are enjoying the story. _


	9. Kinda Like a Dementor

**Chapter 9**** - Kinda Like a Dementor**

They had to drive down two miles of badly eroded, rough dirt road to get to Marty's cabin with Dean complaining the entire time about damaging his baby. Alex thought more than once that she should have brought her SUV and let Bobby take the Impala but didn't dare mention that right now. Dean was weirdly protective of his car and was very noticeably short-tempered after the first overhanging branch brushed its way down the sleek car's side. Sam, on the other hand, wasn't nearly as restrained.

"Dude, you whine worse than an old lady. The car's fine."

"Yeah, no thanks to you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" The Impala hit another pothole with a sharp thud. Sam rolled his eyes as Dean swore under his breath. "It's the road, Dean. You can't seriously blame any of this on an iPod jack that was hooked up for like two months! You have to let that go."

Though dirty, the cabin was solidly built and was definitely secluded. There were Devil's Traps all over the place; under every rug, on the ceiling of every room, and above every doorway. There were a couple in the shed out back and even one in the outhouse.

"Wow, this guy was seriously paranoid," Alex commented, tossing her bag on the couch and coughing in the dust cloud that arose from the disturbed cushion. "I take it he didn't live out here?"

Sam shook his head. "A lot of hunters have secluded cabins. In this line of work you never know when you're going to need to hide out for a while. Bobby must know of a hundred places just like this."

"There's no TV," Dean announced grumpily. "This place sucks already."

"It's better than the last cabin we spent the night in," Alex grinned at him.

Dean smiled back, tempted to make a sleazy come-on retort but chickening out at the last moment, surprising himself with his own restraint. He didn't like that she made him slightly nervous. He didn't do nerves with women but she had definitely him thrown off his game a little and that didn't happen often. Had this been a couple of years ago, he would have been allowing this to go past friends but he just didn't seem to have the stomach or the heart for it after what happened the last time he let himself get close to a girl. Well, an angel, really, but the Anna he had known was still very much a woman and the pain of turning her in to protect Sam was still far too fresh. "Well, at least we brought Sasquatch to chop the firewood for us this time," he said with a jerk of his thumb at Sam.

"What? Why should...?" Sam started to protest but Dean just held up his bandaged arms.

Sam dropped his shoulders in defeat. Of course he would chop the wood. But first, he needed to eat. He hadn't eaten since before Dean had been captured and he was fairly certain Dean hadn't either, if his big brother's growling stomach was any indication.

Dean was already on his way to the small kitchen near the back of the cabin and Sam fell in behind him. The elder Winchester started rooting through the cupboards, looking for something to go along with the convenience store snacks they had picked up at the last pit stop.

"Alphaghetti, Spaghettio's, or mystery stew," he listed aloud as he slammed each can in turn on the counter above.

"Oooh, dibs on the Spaghettio's," Sam replied eagerly, grabbing the middle can and the can-opener from the countertop.

Dean stood up and froze for a second as wave of nostalgia swept over him at the sight that greeted him. His brother was bent over the can of Spaghettio's and Dean could barely see through the shaggy bangs to make out a look of intense concentration on his face as he struggled with the old, bent can opener. For a very brief moment, Sam was Sammy again; six years old, innocent and cheery, eager for his favourite canned meal and insisting on helping his big brother out with the family's dinner. Dean smiled at the flash of memory, his heart skipping a beat with the sheer impact of how much he loved his kid brother. Damn, he needed more moments like this. Moments to remind him this was still Sammy.

They were all scraping the bottom of their bowls less than ten minutes later. Sam didn't find the Spaghettio's to be as good as he remembered. In fact, he almost found himself wishing he hadn't talked Dean out of stopping at the greasy diner in Eagleton. After the unsatisfying meal, he made his way out back to get to work with the axe. There was a huge pile of sawn logs stacked in the rear clearing. He picked up the axe and started swinging, quickly working up a sweat by channeling all his pent-up anger and frustration into each swing.

Within an hour, he had chopped enough wood to keep the woodstove burning for a month but he kept going. He swung furiously at an unsuspecting piece of oak, splitting it in two with a loud crack and sending both halves flying off in each direction.

"Easy there, Tiger. I think it's dead."

Sam lowered the axe head to the ground, leaning on the end of the handle and breathing heavily. He turned to face his brother, who was standing on the porch ten feet behind him, sipping out of a whiskey flask and holding out a beer.

Sam took it gratefully, pulling at the front of his soaking wet T-shirt, peeling it away from his chest to allow the cool air to flow up across his skin.

"You alright, dude?" Dean asked, a look of genuine concern on his face.

"Humph. I should be the one asking you that," Sam replied, taking a sip of his beer and looking down, avoiding his brother's eyes.

"I'm fine," came the standard reply. Then a pause. "Seriously, Sam. What's wrong?"

Sam rubbed his hand across his mouth, a Winchester sign of troubled thought that usually preceded either clamming up or the reluctant divulging of an honest emotion. Sam decided to go for the latter this time round. It was rare event that Dean actually wanted to talk about feelings; he should definitely take advantage of it.

"Dean, I'm sorry, man."

"Sorry for what? This wasn't your fault. I let my guard down, got sloppy."

Sam bit his lip. "Not for that. I should have been there to get you out and I wasn't."

Dean waved his hand in dismissal. "Look, I know I was seriously pissed when I saw Bobby and Lex coming in there, but Bobby explained everything. You didn't have a choice. I can accept that. If you'd have shown up they would've just killed me and split. They were terrified of you, after what you did at Brian's…" He let the sentence trail off, obviously regretting bringing up that subject for fear of starting another argument he probably wasn't up for right now.

It seemed all he and Dean did these days was argue. For four months Sam had agonized over losing his brother, wanting nothing more than to get him back... well, that and to tear Lillith's screaming head from her body for causing him that much pain to begin with. But now that Dean was back, it seemed as if they were farther apart than ever. And getting farther every day. He knew Dean sensed it as well but just hadn't called him on it yet. Just a matter of time, Sam supposed.

Now here was Dean, forgiving him again. Forgiving him for not saving his big brother when all Dean had ever done was save Sam's ass. Now that Dean was broken and fragile, it should be his turn to take the big brother role on. His turn to be the protector. But he just couldn't seem to fill those shoes and kept letting Dean down.

Sam remembered his conversation with Bobby after the demons had refused to allow him to deliver the medallion in exchange for Dean. The mechanic had kept his cool despite Sam's rising temper in the motel room and had finally pulled him outside for a private chat. Well, he had called it a chat but in Bobby-speak that meant a talking to.

"_Look here boy. I realize you don't want to get anyone else involved, but she knows the risks of what she's offering to do and it may be your brother's only chance."_

"_I know. It's her choice to make, I can deal with that," Sam replied more quietly, looking down. He wasn't really comfortable with letting Alex get involved but he would go along with anything if it meant getting his brother back safely._

"_Well then what? Is it Ruby? You keep saying we can trust her. If you're not sure, now would be the time to admit it. If she bails or screws us over, we're all dead," the older hunter warned harshly._

"_It's not that. I trust her," Sam replied. Again, he had his doubts on that front but was willing to risk it for Dean._

_Bobby sighed and his eyes softened. He had known Sam since he had been a toddler and knew his inner-turmoil self-blame expressions almost as well as Dean did. He looked Sam straight in the eyes, holding his gaze. "What is it son?" he asked, dropping his usual gruff tone._

"_I dunno, Bobby. I'm his brother, you know. I should be the one taking the risk to get him back, not you guys."_

_"Like I keep tryin' to tell you knuckleheads, family don't end with blood," Bobby told him. "There ain't nothin' I wouldn't do for yer brother. Or for you."_

"_I know that," Sam continued. "But I'm still his brother. I'm supposed to look out for him, have his back, save his ass, rescue him from…Hell."_

"_Is that what this is about?" Bobby scoffed. The older man never had much patience for self-pity. "Because you weren't the one to pull your brother's behind out of the pit?"_

_Sam shrugged. "I'm his brother," he repeated for the third time. "He was in there because of me. I let him down and Castiel came through for him."_

"_Don't make any difference how he got out, son. That was the easy part of saving your brother." Bobby stood right in front of the much taller hunter, arms folded across his chest and he straightened up to emphasize his next point. "Castiel may have pulled him out, but he tossed him up here in pieces and it's up to you to put him back together. You think I don't see how messed up he is? He's broke, damnit. And with all this shit goin' on with angels and demons and goddamn breaking seals, you're the only thing that's holding him together. Don't underestimate what you can do for your brother. You save him every passin' day, Sam. But if you don't get it together and stop blaming yourself, he's gonna slip right past you."_

_Sam stared at the hunter for more than a few seconds, not saying anything. Under Bobby's very convincing gruff, unfriendly exterior was a sensitive and compassionate soul. Since the boys had been kids they had known this to be true but Sam hadn't realized just how much Bobby saw through their 'suck-it-up' Winchester facades. And how perceptive he was. Sam couldn't stop his pout from curling into a lopsided smile and he silently nodded his agreement to the plan, turning to head back into the motel room._

Sam thought back to Bobby's words now. '_But if you don't get it together and stop blaming yourself, he's gonna slip right past you.' _Bobby had been right. Sam saw Dean struggling every day with the memories of what he had endured on the rack and the guilt of what he had done to get off. But what Dean needed wasn't just a shoulder to cry on. Some comforting words and a pat on the back weren't enough to fix him. Dean needed this to be over. He needed the threat of an impending apocalypse to be a memory. He needed to stop being jerked around by angels and demons alike. He needed some peace. He wasn't going to recover that piece of him that been left back in Hell and fill that hole he had described inside of him unless he could get a break from this madness.

Dean needed Sam to kill Lillith for him. That was the best way Sam could help his brother, of that Sam was certain. And Sam had plans for doing just that but Dean was just too fragile right now to know about them. He wouldn't be able to handle it. He wouldn't understand. His completely unreasonable reaction to what Sam had done at Brian's house was proof of that.

And now here Dean stood on the porch, clamming up at even the mention of what had happened there, of what Sam had done... done for _him_.

"Look, just 'cause you're older doesn't mean I'm not supposed to look out for you as well, you know."

Dean was obviously regretting his pushing for a girly pow-wow. "I know you've got my back, Sam. I may not know much about what goes on in that shaggy head of yours these days, but I know you'll always have my back." With that he turned and went back inside the cabin.

Sam wondered briefly how much Dean did know. He felt the distance between them widen silently by another measure. Surely there was no way Dean knew what he and Ruby did when Sam snuck out of the motel rooms in the middle of the night. Suspect a little, maybe. He hoped Dean just thought his shy little brother was sneaking out for a quick romp and was just too embarrassed and ashamed to admit it.

Whatever he thought, Dean wasn't calling him on anything. It was as if he was too afraid to. Another thing that had changed since Cas had pulled his brother out of one fire and left him floundering in another.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Dusk had come and gone and it was now officially night. Dean came back inside, leaving his brother to chop wood and vent his anger or guilt or whatever the kid was doing by decimating the wood supply. He had left the lamp on the back deck to give Sam some light. Couldn't have him chopping off his trigger finger, after all. He may still need it yet with all that was still to come.

Feeling a bit gloomy after the brief exchange, he decided to find Alex. She usually managed to bring a smile to his face. She wasn't anywhere to be found in the small cabin though and he worriedly peered out the front door into the darkness. To his relief, he caught a glimpse of her long, blonde waves reflecting in the light from the cabin's window. She was sitting on the porch with her feet on the top step and her back to the cabin. She had her earbud in as she usually did when alone and was staring out into the night, head swaying slightly to the beat of the unheard music from her iPod.

She didn't hear the hunter when he came up behind her and turned her head with a surprised jerk to face him as he sat down next to her. She looked away quickly, pulling the earphone out with the wire and wiping the back of her hand across her cheek.

Too late, Dean saw the tears. He felt a stab of pity and thought to himself that he shouldn't be that surprised. After all, she had only just found out that the world could possibly be ending soon and she had probably seen more dead bodies in the last two days than in her entire life.

_That's what you get for hanging out with us Winchesters._

"Hey," was all he said, settling in next to her on the top step.

"Hey," she replied quietly with a small, embarrassed laugh. "You caught me."

They sat in silence for a brief moment. "Rough couple of days, huh?" he smiled, elbows resting on his knees, whiskey flask in hand.

"Rough couple of weeks," she admitted, still looking down and absently twisting her finger in her hair. "I miss my brother," she sighed.

Dean raised his eyebrows slightly, having temporarily forgotten about Josh's predicament. "Is that what you're upset about? You're missing Beach Boy? I thought it would be the whole end-of-the-world thing."

She looked up and smiled. "Yeah, well, there's that too," she admitted. "But mostly because I'm worried I might never see him again. You know, if things don't turn out so well. "

"Don't worry. You will. I'm sure the angels still have a few tricks up their sleeve. The good guys will kick ass." He wished he could believe his own lie.

She let out a small, unconvincing chuckle before going silent for another moment. "You're probably wondering why I didn't turn myself in, huh?"

"Turn yourself in?" Dean wasn't following. "Why would I wonder that?"

"Uncle Bryce said he would get Josh probation if he turned me in. If it was you, you would have turned yourself in, wouldn't you?" she accused, keeping her eyes trained on the darkness of the surrounding woods rather than the man next to her.

"In your case, no," Dean answered quickly and honestly. Her demon was far more dangerous than a few thugs on Cell Block D. The option had never even occurred to him and he was certain it hadn't occurred to Josh.

Alex obviously didn't believe him and felt a need to further explain her reasoning. "Josh wouldn't have been able to live with himself if I had. I thought about it, but….I just couldn't do it," she finished. "But he doesn't deserve the shitty deal he was dealt."

"I know for a fact that your brother would gladly spend the rest of his life in jail if it meant keeping you safe," Dean assured her.

"For a fact, huh? No offense, Dean, but you hardly know him."

"Know him? Lex, if anyone knows what your brother's all about, it's me. I _am_ him!"

Alex managed a laugh at that. "Yeah, you kinda are, you know," she said thoughtfully, remembering Dean's reaction when Sam had been hurt on the hunt they shared last year. "Only with a little more Dirty Harry thrown in the mix. And maybe a little less Oprah."

"I'm not gonna lie," he told her. "The next six months is gonna suck. Truth is, I'm not big on being alone either. I went years hardly seeing Sam at all when he was in college and I hated every minute of it. But the way your brother will no doubt charm the pants off the parole board, I'd say it'll be four months, tops and you two can get back to rocking waves or riding a longboard or whatever it is you do."

"Thanks," she grinned at him, ignoring his completely wrong surfing terminology.

Dean wasn't lying. The years Sam had been away at Stanford had been the worst in his life, with the possible exception of the two years since then. Not a day had gone by when he hadn't felt like something was wrong, like he should be somewhere else, looking out for his brother. He had worried all the time and, despite the fact that he managed to get himself laid more times in those four years than the rest of his life combined, had felt desperately lonely. Abandoned and alone.

But at least he'd had his father. John had never been affectionate or overly considerate of Dean's feelings, but he'd been family and had loved his son. Dean remembered the hurt and emotional pain he had suffered when John too had disappeared, abandoning him without so much as a good-bye. In his pathetic neediness, he had only been able to endure that painful emptiness for six days before it had driven him to show up at Sam's doorstep after almost four years, begging him to join him. Alex had nobody else to turn to. For her, Josh was it.

"Ya know something, you're actually pretty good at this," Alex remarked thoughtfully.

"At what?"

"The '_everything will be alright_' speech. I'd say you're even better than Mr. Sensitive in there," she jerked her thumb towards the cabin, referring to the younger Winchester.

"Tell anybody and I'll kill you."

"There you go with the death threats again," she laughed. "I owe you an apology," she blurted, changing the subject abruptly.

"What for?" Strangely, he found her habit of topic jumping amusing and even endearing and didn't mind the extra effort sometimes required to keep up.

"For the cheap tactics I used in getting you to let me come along with you guys. It was a pretty low blow to guilt you into it. I'm sorry."

Dean snorted. "Lex, I don't do anything I don't want to. Trust me, if I hadn't wanted you to come along, you wouldn't be here. As it turns out, I owe you the apology. This turned out to more dangerous than I thought and now you're stuck hiding out in the woods from demons."

"Can I ask you a question?" she asked him suddenly. "It's about Hell."

_Oh crap. Here it was. Why did everyone always want to ask him what it was like in Hell?_

"Uh, I, uh, really don't like to talk about it…" he stammered, not wanting to be rude but not wanting to discuss his time in the pit. A look of fear and near panic came over his face.

She looked at him with her brows furrowed for a second. "Oh, wait, you think I'm gonna ask about what it was like for you down there? Shit, no."

He still looked skeptical.

"I'm not big on talking about things either," she assured him. "Josh is always trying to get me to talk about things, and you know what? - that works for him. But not for me. If you don't want to talk about Hell, that's fine by me. I wouldn't understand anyway. In fact, about the only thing I do understand is that I couldn't possibly understand. I'm pretty sure the worst things I've ever experienced are like cookies and ice cream compared to Hell. Honestly, I don't even want to know what it's like." She winced at how callous that last part had sounded. Damn, this type of conversation was just not very high on the list of things she was good at. Talk about coming off as insensitive.

"Yeah, okay," Dean sighed back at her, obvious relief on his face. "It's just that Sam is always pushing for me to talk about it and…"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I get ya there. They think if you spill all your fucked up feelings, they'll be able to fix you." She drained the last of her bottled water. "Josh. Sam. They're fixers. They see something broken and they want to fix it. But you know what? Everybody's a bit broken, including them. There's not a person on this planet, no matter how perfect their life seems, that doesn't feel sad or scared or guilty about something. Granted some more than others, but still..." She looked up at him. "In the immortal words of Jon Bon Jovi, 'it's okay to be a little broken'."

"Uh-oh," Dean grinned. "More from the _Life Philosophies of Joshua Brenton_?"

She gave him a playful shoulder bump. "No, you can have that one for the_ Dean Winchester Guide to Survival." _

Dean smiled and took a sip from his flask of whiskey as he thought about her words. Part of it rang true; everybody had issues, everybody was a bit 'broken'. But surely not as screwed up and empty as he felt these days. There were some degrees of broken that maybe did need fixed. He wished there was some magical way to fix him; to help him get back in the game. But right now, he was too scared to even face what he had gone through or done. He tried not to think about it because when he did, he was instantly overwhelmed with the guilt and pain. The only way he could fix his soul would be to unbreak it. To undo all that he had done, make it so it had never happened. And that could ever happen. Even Sam wasn't equipped with the skills to fix Dean this time. Castiel, maybe. But that prick didn't seem to care about anything but obeying his damn orders. Why did he never show up when Dean needed him?

"Hey, you gonna share or what?" Alex's voice snapped him out of his train of thought and he looked over to see her pointing to his flask.

"Yeah, sure. Guess I owe you that much." He grinned as he handed it over. "So what was your question about Hell then?"

"Oh, yeah," she winced and stifled a cough as the strong liquor burned her throat. "That's right. I was wondering, if reciting an exorcism sends a demon to Hell, how come it has to be in Latin? Why can't you just say the same thing in English? Demons and angels both seem to be bilingual."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Sam was almost finished the entire pile of logs. The split wood was now piled waist high on the end of the deck. He heard a noise behind him as he took a final swing.

"Ooh, sweaty. Nice."

He didn't turn around. "What are you doing here, Ruby?"

Her reply betrayed a hint of annoyance at his lack of enthusiasm for her arrival. "I have news. Thought you might like to know what's going on."

Sam leaned the axe up against the porch railing and headed for the cabin door with only a quick glance at the demon. "Ever heard of a cell phone?" he snapped impolitely as he entered, not holding the door for her as she followed him in.

He tried to suppress a smile when he heard a grunt from behind him and turned to find her glaring angrily at the devil's trap overhead that had her trapped where she stood in the doorway. He felt a bit mean but couldn't help himself as he casually grabbed a towel and stood in the living room, wiping his sweaty face and neck and not making a move to help her.

"A little help?" she snapped.

He huffed but gave in, reaching up and scraping a small slash in the outer ring of the painted trap with his knife. Ruby seemed to instantly forgive his less than friendly welcome and moved carefully into the small room, walking cautiously around the four other devil's traps she could see as well as the two rugs. It was safe to assume whatever hunter was responsible for the paranoid décor had thrown in a few hidden treasures also.

"Where are Dean and Goldilocks?" she frowned.

Sam looked around and caught sight of his brother and the blonde sitting on the front porch deep in conversation. It appeared neither had been aware of Ruby's arrival.

"How did you get here?" he asked curiously. Her stolen car was not out front with the Impala and the cabin was a couple of miles into the woods.

As usual Ruby ignored his questions on how she got around. She was looking out the front window at the pair chatting out front, arms folded over her chest. "Why don't they just do it and get it over with?" she scoffed.

Sam sank down on the couch. "Because my brother does everything ass backwards," he replied with a chuckle.

"He's never exactly been one to take it slow with the ladies," Ruby remarked, sauntering over towards Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes, dropping the cold shoulder he always gave the demon when she first showed up. "If you're asking me to make sense of anything that goes on in that head of his, don't even bother."

Ruby looked thoughtful. "This could work in our favour, you know."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, sounding tired.

"Well things would go a lot smoother if you weren't tiptoeing around your brother. He's holding you back and you know it."

Sam glared at her. "I don't want to get into this again. I just got him back, I'm not leaving him. Not now. He was in _Hell_, Ruby."

"I'm not saying this is his fault," she defended hotly. "Hell's as bad as it gets. Trust me, I know. And your brother got the VIP treatment. But there's a war going on and you're the only one who has a chance of stopping Lillith but you're too afraid to do what needs done in case Dean gets his feelings hurt. I'm just saying maybe Goldilocks can distract him for a while; let you do your thing."

Sam shook his head in disapproval but inwardly admitted to himself that there could be some truth in what she was saying. Ruby ended the conversation by knocking on the window, waving the pair out front to come in.

Dean entered first, as usual not looking pleased to see the demon. She had helped save his life earlier today though so he refrained from throwing any derogatory remarks her way. "What's up?"

"The demon that Lillith sent after you is in the area," she informed them bluntly.

"Armageddon?" Dean's head snapped to attention.

"It's Agramon," she snipped.

Dean ignored her snide tone. "Whatever. How close is he?"

"I don't know. All I know is that he was headed towards Reichert."

"Do you think he knows about this cabin?" Alex asked, alarmed.

Ruby just shrugged her shoulders.

Sam stood up, fists flexing with worry. "What do you know about him, Ruby?"

Another shrug. "Like I said before, he's a lone wolf. Got his own agenda. But he wants that medallion enough to volunteer to work with other demons."

"How powerful is he?" Sam pushed. "Can your knife kill him?

"I don't know," the brunette admitted.

"Can I…" Sam hesitated with a guilty glance at his brother. "Can I pull him?"

"No, Sam!" Dean snapped. "We're not going there."

Ruby ignored Dean, answering Sam directly. "I don't think so. Not yet. From what I hear, he's almost as powerful as Alistair. No offense, Sam, but you couldn't do diddly squat to Alistair, remember?" The words were spoken as an accusation and Sam didn't miss the point. He hadn't been practicing enough; he was 'getting flabby'.

Dean almost looked relieved at the bad news. "Good. Then that's settled." He turned back to Ruby. "Should we leave here?"

Sam was taken aback. Was Dean really looking to Ruby for advice? He had been about to ask her the same thing but had not expected his brother to trust her recommendations for their safety. But then again, Ruby had saved Dean's life today and she had put herself in danger when Alistair and the angels were both coming for Anna, even allowing herself to be tortured as part of the ruse. Maybe Dean had finally started to see Ruby as an ally.

"I dunno," the demon replied turning her palms up to demonstrate her indecision. "Agramon is bad-ass. They call him the Demon of Fear, the Master of Terror and a lot of other foreboding names. From what I hear, he can project fear into the minds of his human victims, turning them insane and literally scaring them to death."

"You mean kinda like a dementor?" Alex asked.

"What's a dementor?" Ruby gave her a blank look.

"It's from Harry Potter," Sam explained. "They suck any good feeling from a person's mind leaving nothing but despair."

"Kinda like that then. Only much scarier," Ruby answered.

"Dude," Dean elbow-nudged his brother, "you watched Harry Potter?"

Sam flushed. "Shut up."

"Well, this demon, he enjoys his 'dementing'. You really don't want to go up against him," Ruby offered. "Demon-proof pad or not."

"So the question is do we think he can find us here or not?" Dean summarized.

Alex suddenly gasped and grabbed Sam's forearm. "Something's coming!" she warned sharply, looking wide-eyed towards the front door. "Something's outside!"

Dean dove for his bag of weapons. "Guess that answers that question."

"Do we have time to get to the car?" Sam directed the question at Alex who shook her head.

"I don't think so, they're close."

"How many?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "A few, I think. And one really bad one. _Really_ bad."

Sam briskly rubbed charcoal from the woodstove over the scrape he had made to break the back door's Devil's trap then moved quickly to help Dean and Alex pour the salt across all the windows and doors. No sooner than they had lined the last sill when they heard footsteps on the front and back porches simultaneously.

"This is so not good," Dean griped, shotgun in one hand and .45 in the other, bracing himself in a defensive position facing the front door.

"Nope," Sam agreed, coming to stand with his back to his brother, his Ithica aimed steadily at the back door. Ruby picked up an iron poker from next to the woodstove.

"You got the medallion, Sam?" Dean asked. After all, that was the top priority.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed, tapping his jeans pocket to be sure.

"You got the knife?" There was a stern undertone to Dean's second question. He wanted to be sure his brother was given no excuse to use his demon powers.

"Yes," was Sam's curt reply.

Tense silence filled the cabin as well as the surrounding woods for what seemed like ages to the four occupants.

"What are they doing?" Alex whispered from her position by the bedroom doors. She too was holding a shotgun. The salt rounds didn't really do much damage to demons, they were more deadly to ghosts, but they did sting and could often slow them down a bit. Unless they got a demon in a devil's trap or found a way of dousing high volumes of holy water on them, the knife was the only real weapon they had against them. She could feel a painful, steady chill slicing back and forth through her brain, brought on by her extra sense's reaction to the proximity of the demons outside. "What are they waiting for?" she breathed.

Her question was answered when a flaming torch suddenly came crashing through the front window, followed seconds later by one through the back glass. Dean and Sam reacted quickly to throw them back out but it was obvious from the smell of gasoline, the splashing sounds, and the accumulating smoke that the outside walls of the cabin were being ignited.

"Shit! That's like the oldest trick in the book!" Alex swore, looking to the Winchesters to see what they would think of to get them all out of this latest predicament. They always seemed to have a plan and she was hoping now wouldn't be any different.

"This is so not good!" Dean repeated, realizing it would be completely futile to attempt to battle the quickly catching flames.

"We need to make a run for the car!" Sam commanded, moving to the front door and peering out through the broken windowpane, drawing Ruby's knife.

Dean nodded his agreement and tilted his head at Alex and Ruby, silently ordering them to the front entrance ready to make their break. Sam caught his brother's eye and nodded, the Winchester equivalent of a full battle plan conference. Sam would go first, then Alex, then Ruby, then Dean. No need to wait, they should go now while the demons were still busy lighting the fire rather than wait for them to regroup and position themselves. Sam made a quick scrape through the door's overhead devil's trap to allow Ruby to get out also.

"Go!" Dean whispered and Sam threw open the front door, running towards the Impala parked at the end of the road about a hundred feet away. The others were close on his heels.

The first demon came at Sam at the bottom of the stairs, tossing aside the can of gasoline it had in its hands to lunge. Sam made quick work of it with the knife, planting it firmly in the possessed man's heart. They could see another charging towards them, coming around the cabin, but were able to all get to the car before it reached them. They all piled in except Sam, who stood his ground in front of the car and lunged at the demon when it got close, giving Dean time to get the keys in the ignition and turn. This time the knife found a soft spot on the man's neck and a spray of blood spurted across Sam's chest when he withdrew it from the gaping hole that was now glinting with swirling lights. The younger Winchester slid quickly into the passenger seat, wondering suddenly why the engine wasn't running yet.

"What the Hell?" Dean cursed loudly as he turned the key for the fourth time, still getting nothing. Two more demons were advancing from the direction of the cabin, satisfied smirks on both of their faces.

"They've messed with the car!" Alex yelled, reaching to open her door again. "We need to get out!"

Dean slammed his fist against the steering wheel in fury before following suit. Alex was right. There was no way the engine wasn't turning by accident; he took very good care of his baby and had even given it a once-over at the last pit stop on the way over here just to be sure she hadn't been abused during her overnight stay at the gas station in Loela.

He and Sam got out of the car simultaneously, doors sqeaking open and closed in unison but the front two demons were already upon them. Sam lunged for the closest of the demons with the knife, but this one was faster than his dead associates and managed to avoid the swing. The second demon went straight for Dean, shaking off the hunter's well placed punch to the face and grabbing him by the throat, slamming him against the Impala's door. Dean managed a glance over at Ruby and Alex.

"Get her out of here!" he ordered Ruby, voice raspy from the hand squeezing his vocal chords. "Run!"

Ruby hesitated and looked pissed, but did as Dean ordered and grabbed Alex by the wrist, dragging her away towards the surrounding woods. Dean kicked out at the demon that had him by the neck to no avail. Another hard slam against the Impala almost had him seeing stars, or so he thought until he realized it was actually the now-familiar sparks of death dancing behind the eyes of the demon that was slowly releasing its hold on his neck. Dean coughed and as the demon dropped to the ground he saw Sam standing behind it, Ruby's knife still in stab position.

"Thanks," he croaked quickly to his brother before glancing around for any remaining demons. There were now two lying on the ground in front of the car, obviously taken out by Sam and the knife. Another two-hundred plus pound guy in overalls was charging them with a couple more fifty feet behind him.

"Oh crap, Sam," Dean complained, sounding more fed up than scared. "Get that knife ready."

"Three at once?" Sam said incredulously, his voice rising slightly in pitch. "Screw this, Dean," he said, shoving the hilt of the knife into his brother's hand and taking a step in front of him. He raised his arm out in front of him and creased his brow in concentration.

"Oh no you don't. Sam! No!" Dean ordered, but his brother ignored him and within seconds the closest demon stopped abruptly. His eyes shot wide in shock and black smoke began to swirl out of his mouth in jagged spurts.

The smoke was still seeping into the grass when Sam swung his arm to take on the next two demons. His head was pounding and he was feeling slightly drained already with only one down and two to go. If he could pull Samhain, surely he could take three of Lillith's low-level lackeys, if they were indeed the lackeys, of course. They had no idea what Agramon's chosen 'meat-suit' would look like and it seemed suspiciously fortunate that the Demon of Fear hadn't shown himself yet.

He hated that Dean was standing next to him. Without even looking at him, Sam could see the look of horror and disgust on his brother's face. He made a grabbing motion with his right hand and twisted, sending the second demon to its knees and evoking an agonizing scream from the third.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Ruby and Alex reached the edge of the clearing before Ruby turned to look back at the car. Alex stalled also, following the brunette's gaze to see two demons dead on the floor and three more still racing towards the brothers. Ruby gave her an accusing glare but moved to keep on running. Alex stopped her.

"You go back, I'll be fine," she said.

"Yeah, well I won't be if I let your ass get killed," the demon snapped back.

"They won't be able to be mad at you," Alex argued desperately, "'cause they'll be dead! I'll keep running, I promise." She had figured out years earlier on the first few hunts she had worked with her brother that Josh was far more likely to get hurt if he was distracted by trying to keep her safe, so when she was ordered to leave in the heat of battle, she usually did. She kept her cool and could handle herself in a fight but had to admit that she lacked the upper body strength to do much damage against the stronger, faster variety of supernatural evil-doers they had often encountered. Without the right weapons, she would be relatively useless against a pack of demons. But Ruby had mad skills... and the Winchesters looked like they were in trouble.

Ruby hesitated for a second and appeared as if she was ready to concede when Alex suddenly gasped and covered her mouth with her hand as she stared past the brunette towards the fight by the car. Sam was now standing a step in front of Dean with his arm outstretched towards the demons and black smoke was billowing out of their mouths and eyes.

The throbbing in her head from the proximity of the demons was near excruciating but suddenly it got even worse... then almost unbearable. She heard a rustle of leaves, spun to the left, and was startled by a man standing not ten feet from them, eyeing them calmly with the flames of the burning cabin glowing brightly behind him. Ruby must have noticed the newcomer also, for she spun and lunged swiftly at him with the fire poker. She never got to complete her swing though as an almost casual backhand from the demon sent her flying into the trunk of a nearby tree.

The demon was a good-looking black guy in his mid-thirties. Or more accurately, the demon was possessing the body of the unfortunate handsome man. He stood still, his head tilted slightly sideways as he stared intently at Alex. When he spoke, his voice was eerily calm.

"Well, what do we have here?" The question was rhetorical. "You're different."

Alex backed up a few steps, not sure what her best move was. If she could distract him, or get him to move forward a few steps, maybe Ruby could surprise him from behind. She could see the petite brunette stiffly rising to her feet from the base of the tree trunk.

That plan was shot when he turned without warning to face Ruby. "You were trying to keep this one for yourself?" he asked. Again, rhetorical, because he didn't wait for an answer. "I don't think it'll be of any use to your boss." Again he looked back at Alex, who didn't like the notion of being referred to as an 'it'.

"Lillith isn't my boss," Ruby sneered, squaring her small shoulders to face the powerful demon.

"Well, then we have that much in common," he replied with an almost friendly smile. "So what do you say in the interest of harmony among our kind you let me have this one and take your leave."

Alex was fairly certain Ruby could see what she could see. Two Winchesters, advancing quickly and quietly across the clearing towards them, coming up behind the demon and as of yet, seemingly unnoticed by him. For that reason, she was almost certain that Ruby's next words were simply an attempt to stall Agramon. She had no doubts this was Agramon himself standing before them; the painful throbbing and sense of evil in her head was one of the most powerful she'd ever experienced.

"Hmmmm." Ruby appeared to think for a moment, arms folded across her chest. "What's in it for me?"

Agramon laughed at that. It was a casual, almost pleasant laugh. "You get to live to see another day, that's what." He was about to say something else when his voice hitched and his eyes widened, chest thrusting forward from a blow from behind.

Dean stood behind him, both hands on the handle of Ruby's knife which was buried up to the hilt in Agramon's back. Alex could see the immediate shock pass quickly from the demon's face, replaced by anger as his eyes narrowed, turning a freaky, unnatural orange-gold colour for a brief second. His shoulders stiffened and he straightened up slowly, drawing a deep, angry breath into his lungs as he did so. Dean yanked the knife out and plunged it in again, slightly to the left.

This time the 'Master of Terror' didn't even flinch. There were no dancing lights or flashes of illumination under his skin. He turned to face the elder Winchester and with just a twitch of his chin sent Dean hurdling through the air at least thirty feet. As was usually the case for the unfortunate Dean, the demon managed to land the hunter against something painfully solid. This time it happened to be a large, deciduous tree trunk.

Sam immediately threw out his arm towards the demon, ignoring his already dizzy state and the trickle of blood dripping from his nose from the three pulls he had just finished. He barely caught sight of a satisfied smirk that came across Ruby's face and later thought he may have imagined it. Either way, the smirk was gone seconds later when it became apparent to all that he was no match for this high-level demon.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC...**_

_Next up... Sam's showdown with Agramon with a little hero!Dean thrown in the mix..._


	10. Just Once Dean Deserves to Come First

_Thanks for the reviews and faves and alerts on this story and the first in the series.  
Cecile(guest) – Thanks for the comment, that is awesome. Hope you enjoy the rest!_

**Chapter 10**** - ****Just Once Dean Deserves to Come** **First**

The standoff went on for two long, tense minutes. Agramon barely seemed to be breaking a sweat, his hand outstretched to match Sam's opposing stance. Sam, on the other hand, was shaking and bleeding profusely from his nose, a trickle even escaping from his ear. His jaw was tightly clenched as he strained to summon as much power as he could from that place deep inside himself. The place that he had denied ever existed for most of his life. The place that he had struggled to keep locked up and hidden away for three years after Jessica had been killed. The place that he had finally burst wide open after the horror of losing his brother to Lillith, ripped to shreds by invisible Hellhounds as he watched helplessly.

The younger Winchester knew he was nearly finished. The only thing that was allowing him to retain a tenuous grasp on his very last ounce of strength was the knowledge that as soon as he fell, Agramon would surely move on to kill Dean next. Sweat poured down his face and he was barely aware that he had fallen to his knees. His vision was blurring and when the intense pressure in his brain abruptly subsided, he thought he had lost the battle.

_It was over. That bitch Lillith was going to have his brother killed again. He'd failed to save Dean again. _

He was fairly certain he made a chortling whimper sound as he waited for the final surge of energy from Agramon to kill him.

It never came. It took him a few seconds to realize he was still alive and was seeing a bright glow in front of him. He concentrated on pulling his fractured thoughts together enough to focus on what was happening. His vision cleared sufficiently for him to see the demon's possessed body in flames ten feet in front of him, screaming. Then suddenly it was running away, arms flailing.

_Had he done that? Had he saved his brother? _

Then he saw Dean, gasoline can in one hand, zippo in the other, standing behind where the demon had been with a satisfied but tense look on his face.

_No. He hadn't saved anybody._

Dean turned towards Sam, his face carrying a look of concern mixed with something else, something Sam wasn't sure he liked.

"Sam, you okay?" Dean asked without moving any closer. His distance spoke volumes.

Sam nodded, wiping the blood from his face with the back of his hand as he rose to his feet.

"That fire isn't gonna keep him at bay long," Ruby advised. "It'll hurt him like a son of a bitch, but it won't kill him. We still need to run, get a head start."

Dean turned to his brother once more, this time his look expressing only concern and the usual devotion. "Dude, can you run?"

Sam felt like collapsing on the grass but instead nodded convincingly. He knew Dean wouldn't leave without him and they wouldn't survive another attack if Agramon decided to go another round. He drew on the infamous Winchester resolve to pull his giant frame to its feet and the four headed down the driveway, slowly at first but speeding up as Sam managed to pick up his pace.

"I hate to be the buzzkill," Alex said, "but exactly where are we running to?"

"Anywhere but here," Ruby said flatly.

"We'll figure that out as we go," Dean shrugged. "The main road's about two miles. Let's aim for that for now. Maybe we can flag down a car."

Dean ran through their situation in his head as they fled. The knife hadn't worked on Agramon. It hadn't killed Alistair either but they knew Lillith was afraid of it . Sam could take on Samhain but obviously not Agramon. Demons were confusing with their varying levels of different powers and resistances. How were they supposed to fight all these high level demons when they didn't know what weapons would work on each one? There should be a frigging rulebook.

Dean doubted his brother could take on Lillith, demonic powers or not, though he had a nasty suspicion Sam didn't share this belief. Well, he would just have to make sure Sam wasn't given the opportunity to confront her. The kid was getting far too eager to use these seemingly strengthening powers of his, the past two days were plenty proof of that.

He was aware Sam sometimes left the motel rooms in the middle of the night, sneaking out thinking Dean was asleep. He hadn't confronted the younger Winchester yet and wasn't sure why he was hesitant to do so. Maybe he was too scared of the inevitable argument it would bring. Pushing Sam and trying to give him an order these days was more likely to result in the stubborn kid taking off than stopping what he was doing, and the thought of Sam leaving him to go off after Lillith alone terrified Dean more than anything else in the world right now.

He glanced at Ruby who was running a few steps ahead of him next to Sam and felt a seed of nausea in the pit of his stomach. He had no doubts his brother was meeting up with her and working on developing his abilities. He hated her with every instinct he had yet couldn't deny that when they were in trouble, it had more than once been her putting her ass on the line to help. With the exception of pulling him out of Hell, Cas had yet to show up at such an opportune moment.

"He's following!" Alex warned them, glancing fearfully behind them.

"How close?" Dean demanded.

"I dunno," she shrugged. "Closer than he was a couple of minutes ago."

"He's gaining. Cut into the trees," Sam ordered, veering off the rocky driveway sharply to the right. The others followed him without question, jumping over the line of bushes at the path's edge.

"Can demons track?" Alex asked, breathing heavily.

"We're not vampires," Ruby snapped. "If we get far enough from the path that he can't hear us, he'll run right on by. He can only smell us up close." She looked over at Dean with a smirk. "Well, maybe he doesn't have to be that close."

"Ha ha," Dean sneered back, not in the mood for Ruby's attempt at playful banter.

They raced as fast as they could through the sparse undergrowth of the forest, trying to get as far off the road as possible before Agramon reached the spot where they had turned into the trees.

"How close is he?" Ruby asked Alex a few minutes later. The blonde was running right behind Ruby with Sam in the lead and Dean bringing up the rear.

"I don't know; I'm not friggin' On-Star!" Alex barked, her head pounding painfully with Agramon's presence and her nerves frayed. "It still feels like he's getting closer," she added testily.

"Sam, we gotta move faster!" Dean called to his brother.

Sam forced himself to pick up the pace even more despite the fact his knees still felt like jelly and his headache from the unsuccessful face-off with the demon was worse than excruciating. His breath was coming in ragged gasps but he managed to keep them quiet enough to go unnoticed as he weaved quickly through the trees, ducking his tall frame under various branches as he ran.

Another few minutes and Dean called out for an update. "Alex! How we doin'?"

This time, since it was coming from the hunter, she didn't snap at the question. "We haven't lost him yet," she informed them, panting her answer. She furrowed her brow in confusion as she hurdled over a large rock. She had thought the demon had been pretty far behind them when they'd turned off the road, so how was it that he seemed to be keeping up, maybe even catching up? They had even changed direction since hitting the trees, so either Ruby had been wrong and he could track by smell, or…

She stopped dead in her tracks. Dean nearly crashed into her as he came barreling along behind.

"Whoa, Lex, you gotta keep going," he encouraged. "We're all tired but like you said, we haven't lost him yet."

She turned to face him, hearing Sam and Ruby stop running behind her.

"It's me," she breathed in realization.

"What's you?" Dean looked impatient and his chest was heaving from exertion.

"He's still following us because of me," she explained through hard breaths.

"He's after all of us, Alex," Sam was taking a few steps back towards her and Dean, the smeared blood from his nose drying across his lips and cheek.

"Yeah, but he knows where we are because he knows where I am," she elaborated, putting a finger to her temple to indicate her extra sense and trying not to let the fear show in her voice. She wasn't overly impressed with her own efforts and didn't think she was being very successful at hiding it.

"Shit," Dean swore as he realized what she was getting at. "The bastard's sensing you?"

"I thought you said it wasn't a GPS?" Ruby accused.

"It's not, at least not on my end," Alex explained. "But I can sorta tell if he's closer or getting farther away - he probably can too."

Nobody said anything for a few seconds, all trying to figure out how to deal with this new dilemma.

"I have to leave," Alex concluded, knowing it was the only way they wouldn't all get killed and frantically trying to think where she could go.

"No way!" Dean cried firmly, grabbing her wrist to stop her from trying any such foolish move.

"We stick together," Sam agreed in an equally authoritative tone.

She looked between them both almost pleadingly. "I have to," she said, her voice quivering as she tugged to shake her arm loose from the hunter's grip.

"We keep running. Now." Dean was adamant, giving her an urgent shove in the direction they had been running. Alex resisted, yanking at her restrained arm.

Sam wished she would just keep moving. They would just have to pick up the pace again, he thought, though the voice in the back of his mind was screaming at him that he knew damn well they couldn't outrun a powerful, almost tireless demon for much longer. "Look, we're not leaving you here to die," he argued.

"I'm not suicidal!" she replied heatedly. "I'll veer around him and go back to the cabin; I know he'll follow me."

"The cabin's gone, remember!" Dean countered.

"But the shed's still there and it has at least two Devil's traps. I'll get him in one and read out an exorcism." She knew it sounded like a long shot but she had to convince the stubborn bastards to get going. She couldn't let anyone else die on her account.

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes, his hand still tightly wrapped around her wrist, but Alex cut him off before he could argue further. "Look, you need to go! If this guy gets his hands on the medallion, it's over. For everyone. Remember atomic angel warfare and Lucifer rising and all that crap? You have to let me go!" She was fighting back tears at this point, not sure if they were from the fear of Agramon chasing her alone or the thought of being the reason six billion people died a horrible death.

"She's right," Ruby interjected with a surprising amount of compassion in her voice.

Sam shot the demon brunette a vicious glare and spun back around to face Alex. "Damnit, Alex, either you start running or I pick you up and throw you over my shoulder!" he almost shouted, his voice rising in pitch as it always did when his temper flared. There was absolutely no way he and Dean had become so desensitized that they were going to let an innocent friend sacrifice herself so they could get away.

Alex stood her ground and glared at Sam. "If that demon gets the medallion, my brother dies too!" she spat, turning her fear into anger. "It's not just your family in danger. You'd do it for him!" she jerked her thumb at Dean, who surprised everyone with his next comment.

"Sam, she's right."

Sam jerked his head back in shock at his brother's words. _No! Surely Dean hadn't become so scared of everything that he would be willing to leave a helpless girl in the woods to face down a high level demon by herself. Surely his brother wasn't that far gone!_

"What? Dean! What are you…?"

Dean cut him off. "She's right. The most important thing is to keep that medallion away from that bastard back there. We can't afford to stand here arguing and if she stays near it, he's gonna catch up with us and kill us and nab the medallion for Lillith."

Sam started to say something else but Dean cut him off a second time. "No more arguing! Get going. We'll call you after we dust this sucker."

_We?_ "What? No!" Sam and Alex said at the same time, Alex now trying frantically to pry her arm out of the hunter's iron grasp.

"Dean…" But Sam already knew his brother had made up his mind. There was no way Dean was going to abandon Alex; it just wasn't in him to do so, no matter what the stakes. And the medallion had to be kept safe - at any cost. Sam couldn't help but feel a tiny measure of relief at Dean's bravery mixed in with the immense fear he felt for his brother's safety. He could feel Ruby tugging at him from behind to keep moving but he stood still, unable to leave Dean to this fate. "What are you gonna…" He let the question trail off when his voice hitched, his mind still spinning in fear of losing his brother again.

"Like she said," Dean answered evenly. "Shed. Devil's trap. It's a workable plan." He gave Sam his patented _'I'm Dean – I'm not scared of anything_' cocky smile and Sam couldn't help but think that he hadn't seen enough of that Dean bravado recently. "Keep that medallion safe, Sammy. I'll catch up with you later."

Then Dean was running in the opposite direction, dragging Alex forcibly by the wrist away through the trees. The girl threw back a scared and apologetic glance but Dean never turned around. Sam stared after them for a second or two, not wanting to take his eyes off his brother's retreating form until another sharp tug from Ruby brought him to his senses. He swallowed hard and reluctantly started moving again in the direction they had figured would lead them to the highway.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Dean had been born with a very keen sense of direction that his years of hunting had developed into a near flawless ability to find his way. Even after running through the woods for over fifteen minutes before splitting up and ten minutes since, he had a clear idea of where the cabin was. They were close enough to it now they could smell the smoke from the charred hull that was surely all that was left of Marty's hideout. Dean had been checking with Alex every couple of minutes to be sure Agramon was following them and not Sam. She assured him the demon was very definitely coming their way and gaining on them.

Once he had realized the girl's presence was indeed endangering them all, Dean hadn't thought twice about what he was going to do about it. It was what he had done all his life, what he had always felt he was born to do. Save people. He had risked his neck a hundred times for people he loved, people he liked, and even people he barely knew. He would save his brother by removing the threat and he would save Alex by… well, he wasn't quite sure how he was going to do that part yet. The Devil's trap ploy was a bit weak but he hadn't been able to come up with anything better.

He glanced back at the blonde who was doing an impressive job of keeping up with him. Of course, adrenaline will do that for you. She caught his eye and smiled at him. He noted it was a tired and slightly nervous smile but gave her props for even being able to attempt it. Actually, he had to give her credit for a lot more than that. She had been willing to run off by herself to almost certain death so that the rest of them could live. He knew the reason was at least in part to save her own brother from a possible Hell on Earth but that didn't diminish the bravery she had shown. And it wasn't the first time he had seen the girl show tremendous courage. Dean wasn't impressed easily and he was impressed.

"Hey, déjà vu, huh?" he grinned at her in an attempt at levity.

It worked. She laughed. "Yeah. What's with you and monsters in the woods, Dean?"

"Me?" He raised his eyebrows but didn't bother to point out that the latest monster was after her, not him. "Don't worry, I'll try to stay awake this time," he chuckled, remembering that he had inconveniently spent most of that night in the woods of Indiana a few months back unconscious and delirious.

"That would be good," she teased as she tripped over a root and stumbled forward a few steps.

She was stopped by Dean's bandaged forearm across her shoulders. He stood motionless and held his finger to his lips in the universal gesture to hush. She followed his gaze forward to where the tree line broke a few feet ahead and the smoldering remains of the cabin were visible in the clearing, a few small flames still lingering at its base.

Dean couldn't see any signs of possible demon stragglers. Alex had assured him Agramon was behind them and he hoped Sam had finished the rest off at the Impala earlier. A sick feeling came over him upon even thinking about how Sam had done that but he forced it away as they had far more pressing matters to deal with.

The shed was about a hundred feet behind the cabin. The hunter decided to skirt around the clearing just in case, rather than risk complete exposure by running through it.

Alex followed obediently. She had given up disputing his decision to join her in leading Agramon away from the medallion about fifteen seconds after he had dragged her away from Sam and Ruby, realizing that arguing with the stubborn Winchester would be futile. Now their best chance of survival lay with the experienced and skilled hunter's instincts so she was going to do whatever he said at this point. She certainly owed him that much. Besides, her headache was pounding in her temples so intensely with the proximity of this 'Master of Terror' character that she was feeling almost dizzy.

They reached the shed without incident and Dean hammered the padlock with the hilt of Ruby's knife and slid open the bolt as quietly as he could. _Not that it matters_, he thought to himself, remembering that the demon wasn't following them by sound.

It was a large shed, almost the size of the cabin itself, and was full of weapons. Actually, they were mostly pieces of farm tools and equipment but since this was a hunter's cabin, it made sense that these particular tools had probably seen more use as weapons against enemies of the supernatural variety. On one wall there were shelves with jars and boxes full of powders, roots, and herbs that Dean could only guess were hunting paraphernalia. He thought briefly that something here may come in handy but realized nothing was labeled and he didn't know what much of it was. Sam had paid far more attention than him in 'Magic Herb class', which had been taught by one Professor Singer every day for the two weeks they had stayed with Bobby when Dean had been fourteen.

There were high stacks of rock salt bags near the back of the shed. Dean decided not to line the door this time since it may tempt the demon outside to start another fire. There was an obvious painted devil's trap almost ten feet in diameter in the center of the shed floor and another smaller one over the doorway. There were no windows, vents, or other openings so it was a safe bet the demon would be getting in through the front door.

Dean was in full hunter mode and quickly assessed the situation to come up with a plan to survive the inevitable confrontation with Lillith's latest crony. A quick rummage through the shed's other contents revealed a few possibilities, none of which were comfortably promising but would have to do.

Within two minutes Dean no longer had to keep asking Alex if the demon was close for he could hear him outside. There was a rustle of footsteps in the brush then the shed door rattled loudly. When it stopped, Dean heard what could only be described as a growl then there was a moment's pause before the door flew open with a loud bang, the inside deadbolt snapping like a twig.

Standing in the doorway, just outside the overhead devil's trap, was Agramon. This time, however, there was no trace of the handsome man he had commandeered. His hair was pretty much gone; the remnants of which were charred, black patches between areas of peeling and misshapen scalp. The face was completely unrecognizable, horribly disfigured from the flames that had engulfed the body just over half an hour ago. The clothes were gone completely, likely the first thing to finish burning as they had been doused with gasoline before Dean's zippo had done its job. Not that it mattered anyway as the man's body was so gnarled and covered in charcoal that any exposure that could be considered indecent by law went entirely unnoticed. Even Dean let out an audible gasp at the grisly sight.

"Dude, that is so not a good look for you," he quipped from his position in the center of the shed, trying to ignore the nauseating feeling he was getting from the familiar smell of the man's burnt flesh.

Agramon, whose eyes had already searched out and met Alex's, turned his head sharply towards the hunter. To Dean's disappointment, he reached a finger up and casually tapped the doorframe above him, sending a spark through the outer ring of the devil's trap and breaking the line. Now that it had been rendered useless, the demon stepped forward a few steps, moving threateningly towards Dean with an amused glint in his eyes.

Dean stood his ground, waiting in anticipation for Agramon to step into the large painted symbol on the floor in which Dean had planted himself in the center as bait. They had thrown wood, soil, and other junk over the lines of the trap to conceal it. As ordered, Alex remained behind him against the rear wall. Again to the hunter's chagrin, the demon stopped just short of the outer ring, hesitating and looking down for a second. He kicked a piece of plywood away with his foot, revealing a line of worn paint below it.

"Really?" he taunted the hunter. "Is that the best you can do?" His voice was raspy and hoarse, clearly another result of having his stolen body torched.

Dean took a few steps back, hissing quietly in frustration. Things were not going well. Plan A and Plan B had both failed and they were running out of alternatives. Agramon bent slowly down and touched a finger to the ground just outside the biggest of the traps, again breaking its outer ring with a small, fiery spark.

Backing away slowly, Dean hid any trace of fear from his face with practiced ease. He moved almost leisurely towards the back corner of the shed while keeping his eyes trained on the demon following him. "You know," he smirked, "you really should do something about that nasty flap of skin hanging off your chin, dude. It's really not gonna impress the chicks."

The demon laughed pleasantly and pulled the ghastly piece of peeling skin off with a smile, dropping it on the shed floor with a shake of his hand. "Why thanks buddy," he joked back at Dean with a wink. "Good to know you've got my back."

Dean's forehead creased slightly in surprise. He was not used to demons appreciating his sarcastic sense of humour, never mind reciprocating in kind. They were usually nastier.

"So," he ventured, "we're buddies now, huh? Great. So what do you say you do me a favour and uh, let us leave. Preferably alive."

Agramon stopped advancing and stood aside with a grin, arm gesturing towards the door. "Go ahead," he offered. "You can go anytime you like. To be honest, I have no interest in you." His pointed look at Alex as he spoke indicated clearly to Dean that it was the girl he found interesting and that she was definitely not included in the offer to leave.

"Not gonna happen," Dean warned, his tone becoming sterner with the veiled threat towards Alex.

The demon shrugged and looked thoughtful for a brief moment. Dean decided to take advantage of its pensive moment and see if he could distract it enough to kick Plan C into action.

"So how'd you find us?" he ventured.

"Oh please," the demon snorted. "Martin Linklater's place. All you hunters have had run-ins with demons that answer to Lillith. Her intelligence gathering makes the CIA look like schoolchildren on a backyard treasure hunt. She knows all your hideouts and hangouts. We simply started checking out all the known hunters' places near Loela. This was only our fourth stop."

"So what made you decide to become Lillith's bitch, anyway?" Dean asked.

Agramon's eyes narrowed. "I do not serve Lillith," he snarled at the hunter. "I do whatever I want. It just so happens Lillith and I have some common interests at the moment."

"Oh yeah?" Dean took a subtle step backwards. Alex was still standing quietly behind him in the corner.

"Yes. The medallion you and your brother have in your possession would be a lot of fun to play with. And I like to, as you humans put it, stop and smell the roses. I appreciate life's little pleasures."

"Well, we don't have the medallion," Dean shot back, not liking the almost hungry look the demon had shot at Alex during his last statement. "What's your beef with angels, anyway?"

"Beef?" The demon returned his attention to Dean. "I don't have a beef. I wouldn't expect you to understand how euphoric it would be to inflict my influence on a genuine Angel of the Lord, trapped by the medallion in its human prison." The demon was almost licking his lips as he spoke. Well, what was left of his lips.

"Influence?" Dean asked, trying to understand what the demon was referring to. Unfortunately, he came to understand in the next minute exactly what Agramon had meant. And in true Winchester fashion, he found out the hard way.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Sam ran blindly through the trees, oblivious of what direction he was headed. Frankly, he didn't care. He stumbled over what was probably the twentieth protruding root but still couldn't bring himself to focus on his surroundings. His mind was filled with images of Dean being killed by Agramon, each imagined scenario worse than the previous one. He fought back the sting of tears after one particularly nasty image flashed through his thoughts, glad for the cover the dark night was giving him. It was an image of his brother, battered and bloody, being tossed around like a rag doll by the angry demon. After helplessly watching Alex being carved to pieces, Dean screamed in agony as a laughing Agramon slashed away at him, slicing his chest into ribbons just like the Hellhounds had.

_Oh God, how could he have let Dean go off on his own like that?_

He was barely aware of Ruby running closely behind him until she called out to him.

"I think your brother's plan worked. I don't think Agramon's following us anymore."

Sam ignored her, clenching his jaw at what that statement meant for Dean.

"That's good news, Sam," she pressed for a reaction.

"That's not good news!" Sam snapped back.

He could hear impatience in her voice. "Well maybe not for Dean, but it is for six billion other people!"

_Damn she could be a heartless bitch sometimes. _Sam finally stopped running, bending over to rest his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. After a moment of tense silence, he stood up straight.

"I shouldn't have let him go, Ruby," he said in a quiet voice laden with guilt.

"It was his choice, Sam," the demon replied, this time with a feeble attempt at sounding compassionate.

"Yeah but he always chooses to look out for everyone else first!" Sam threw his hand in the air in frustration. "He never chooses to look out for himself, does he?"

"Sam, he's looking out for everybody, including himself, by doing whatever it takes to keep Lucifer from being set free." Sam was aware the brunette was studying him carefully. "He knows more than anyone what it will mean if Lillith succeeds."

"Yeah I know," Sam sighed. "The medallion comes first. Saving the world comes first. But after all he's been through, just once Dean deserves to come first."

"Look, your brother's made it through some pretty tight situations before," she encouraged, not quite managing to hide the skepticism.

Sam chuckled half-heartedly with no humour in his voice. "Yeah, no thanks to me most of the time," he sulked.

"You don't get Dean into bad situations, Sam. He manages to do that all by his lonesome."

"I don't exactly manage to get him out of them, do I?" Sam was more upset than angry right now, and when he was upset, he usually turned to self-bashing and guilt-tripping.

"I get it," Ruby conceded. "You're pissed because you couldn't take on Agramon and protect your brother. But whose fault is that?"

Sam snapped his head around, giving the demon a sharp glare. "This is the part where you tell me I need to practice more?" he spat.

Ruby folded her arms across her chest as she often did when annoyed or frustrated with the stubborn Winchesters. "Yes," she fired back. "If you want to be able to protect your brother from the likes of Agramon, from Alistair, from _Lillith_, then you need to stop worrying so much about his feelings and make yourself stronger."

Sam was no fool. He knew Ruby was playing him. But he also knew there was a genuine truth in what she was saying. He decided he didn't want to have this argument with her right now and started running again without answering, trying to focus on his surroundings and shut out the imagined dangers his brother could be facing this very minute.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Agramon sighed, suddenly looking bored with the conversation. He jerked his chin to the side and Dean went flying through the air, hitting the sidewall of the shed with what would have been his face had he not thrown his arm up just in time. The hunter picked himself up quickly, realizing his removal left the path clear between Agramon and Alex, but no sooner had he made it to his feet than an invisible force slammed his back against the wall, pinning him there helplessly. He looked up to see Agramon advancing slowly and eagerly on the blonde, the demon's arm still outstretched in Dean's direction, holding the invisible bonds in place with that _really_ fucking annoying demon power.

Alex looked frightened. She obviously hadn't mastered the art of hiding her fear as well as the Winchesters had, even if she did succeed in masking some of the other more exposing emotions like a pro. Even so, she managed a quick nod to Dean, letting him know she was still going to follow through with the plan.

The plan, however, had called for them both to play a part. Dean wasn't sure how or _if _she could pull it off alone without getting too close to the demon. He watched with gritted teeth in helpless frustration as she stood still, waiting tensely until the demon moved into the target area.

Dean had never met Marty the hunter but had been impressed with his ingenuity when he had found what appeared to be a portable devil's trap, the outer rings and symbols of which had been painted on two half circles of plywood about five feet in diameter. Dean had marked the middle portions of the pentagram (which had to be left out to allow the plywood to be laid around a standing demon) on the floor in charcoal. Since they were only fragments, it appeared the seemingly random lines had not been considered threatening to Agramon and he stepped onto them without as much as a downward glance.

With less than five feet between her and the demon, Alex sprang into action. She reached out to the left and flipped down the curved piece of plywood that had been leaning against a lawnmower, empty side out. As it fell to the floor painted side up, Dean watched with his breath held. He was supposed to have been there to flip the other side down simultaneously, surprising the demon and catching it inside the trap. However, since he was currently stuck frigging spread eagle and useless against the shed wall, she would have to get around the demon and flip the other side down before he figured out what was going on.

Alex didn't wait for the first piece to finish dropping to the floor before she darted past the hideous demon to reach the other piece. Her fingers were inches from it and Dean thought for a second that this might actually work but watched in horror as Agramon's charred fingers seized her neck from behind, yanking her violently backwards and off her feet before she could flip the board down.

The demon didn't seem to notice what the girl had been trying to do or maybe in his arrogance he just didn't care. He held her by the throat in the air before him, ignoring her violent struggling against his painful restraint and pulled her in close to his face, taking a deep sniff of the back of her head. The action reminded Dean briefly of Yellow Eyes doing the same to him in 1973 in an effort to 'sniff out' any psychic ability and determine if Dean was 'one of his special kids'.

Agramon glanced towards Dean with a gloating smirk that was strangely enhanced by the grotesque disfigurement of his face. "Oh this is going to be fun, boy," he jeered in obvious anticipation. "You think she's scared now; watch and see what real fear is."

Still trying to pry her way out of the iron grip on her throat, Alex was stretching her foot out as far as she could, trying desperately to reach the plywood trap leaning against the shed wall. Dean felt the lump of dread in his chest dissipate somewhat and consciously restrained himself from cheering out in triumph when he saw the toe of her boot finally plant itself on top of it and pull it towards her. It moved as if in slow motion, teetering near the vertical position and threatening to fall back against the wall before deciding to play on the side of the hunters and fall instead to the floor around the demon's feet.

Agramon's pissed look made it clear he finally saw what was going on. He dropped Alex to the floor in front of him, grabbing a fistful of her hair to keep her restrained. Unfortunately, the two halves had not fallen perfectly together and he moved towards the small open gap in the direction of the main door, dragging the girl with him.

No longer held up by the throat, Alex dropped to her knees and lunged as hard forward as she could, slamming her palm on the second plywood half-circle and sliding it quickly the few inches into place against the other. The instant the edges met, the demon's hold on Dean was released and the hunter moved swiftly over to the newly-assembled devil's trap, loudly reciting the Latin exorcism he had finally committed to memory after the embarrassing incident with demon Casey last year.

Unfortunately, Alex had closed herself inside the circle with the angry demon. Although the bastard was no longer able to assert any demonic powers over the hunter on the outside, he would still be able to use them against her until Dean could make it through a good portion of the exorcism. Or he could simply snap her neck, Dean realized as he arrived at the outer ring of the circle and reached inside to grab the blonde, not liking what he was seeing at all.

She was still on her knees at the demon's feet, facing Dean, her hands hanging limply at her sides. She now had a blank expression on her face and Agramon's scorched fingers were pressed to her temples, his lash-less eyes glowing eerily with an orange-gold colour and a satisfied smile on his face.

Dean's voice grew louder and he practically yelled the exorcism at a speed that may possibly have rivaled his father's skills on a good day as he grabbed Alex's arm and yanked as hard as he could, pulling her to her feet and out of the circle in one swift motion. Surprisingly, Agramon didn't move to keep her inside the trap with him. Dean didn't like the look the demon was giving him. Shouldn't the prick be scared? Pissed? At least worried?

"You're going back to Hell, you son of a bitch!" he interjected into his Latin recital, unable to hold back his temper.

Agramon just shrugged. Dean was about to continue when he was startled by a scream from Alex. He glanced over at her worriedly. _Was she hurt? _He had never heard her scream before. A surprised squeal, yes, but not a full-fledged scream like the one she pierced through the still night air now. He couldn't help but wince at the shrillness and volume of it.

She was standing a few feet away from him with a look of sheer terror on her face. She let out another bloodcurdling scream. And another. And another.

"Ahhh, music to my ears," Agramon practically swooned inside the circle, relishing the sound of every scream. "That is beautiful!"

"You bastard! What did you do to her?" Dean couldn't get Alex's attention. He stood directly in front of her and grabbed her arms, giving her a shake and calling her name. She didn't seem to even see him and just continued screaming.

_He can project fear into the minds of his human victims, turning them insane and literally scaring them to death._

Ruby's words crept out of Dean's memory and slammed into his train of thought like a freight truck. With crystal clarity, he realized he would have to exorcise the demon quickly, because if the look on the screaming girl's face was any indication, she didn't have much time. He launched back into the Latin verses, wishing for the umpteenth time in the past three years that somebody would come up with a shorter version of this crap.

Dean had been around fear his whole life, or at least since he had been almost five years old and it had forced its way into his life in the form of a house fire that had taken his mother and his happy life away from him. In Hell, he had seen a whole new level of fear. He had, in fact, been the cause of that fear for countless damned souls for almost a decade. The kind of fear from which insanity was a welcome relief.

Looking at and listening to Alex now caused his heart to twist and knot with dread. He saw nothing in her face that was recognizable as Alex, a girl he could admit he cared for even if he wasn't willing to look too closely at how much. There was only terror, sheer and utter terror, penetrating through every last neural pathway of her brain leaving nothing untouched. She was oblivious to anything going on in the small shed except the all-encompassing fear that held her so completely in its grasp as she continued her relentless screaming.

Dean tried to keep his voice steady as he continued shouting out words in Latin, disheartened by the demon's lack of reaction. _Shouldn't this be working by now? _Agramon seemed to be more turned on by the screaming than affected by anything Dean was putting out there.

"Go ahead, kid," the demon taunted him. "Send me back. We'll all be out soon enough and you know it. And you may not be as tasty a treat as your friend here," he gestured towards Alex and inhaled a deep, seemingly pleasurable breath with his eyes closed, "but I'll see to it you suffer her same fate."

A threat. Dean knew that had to be a good sign. Now near the end of the exorcism, Agramon's smile finally faded and he began to show signs of discomfort. He began retching and clutching his naked stomach, falling to his knees on the painted pieces of plywood. As Dean shouted the last words, the demon's head turned upwards and the hunter instinctively covered his face as he was hit with the wind created by the powerful swirl of black smoke spiraling madly out of the burnt man's mouth and down into the wooden floor.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Sam and Ruby had slowed their pace to a fast walk. Sam was fairly certain they would be reaching the highway soon, his hunter instincts having blessed him with a sense of direction every bit as good as that of his big brother's.

Sam had been silent since the brief exchange he'd had with Ruby regarding practicing with his powers. He was reluctant to admit it but she had been right. Dean needed Sam to be strong enough to handle the ever-increasing strength of the high-level demons and other threats that were being thrown their way. Dean wasn't as strong as he used to be and he didn't have Sam's advantage - not that he even saw Sam's powers as an advantage, of course. It was Sam's turn to protect Dean and if Dean survived his confrontation with Agramon, Sam intended to do just that.

"I have been practicing, Ruby," he blurted, not bothering to slow his pace or make eye contact with her. "You keep telling me I have this unlimited potential but as far as I can tell, I'm tapped out. I'm good, but I've reached my limit. I'm not getting any better. I'm not what you seem to think I am. And if I can't take on Alistair or Agramon, I sure as Hell can't take on Lillith. I need to be able to kill Lillith if I'm gonna keep Dean safe."

If Sam had looked over at the demon next to him, he would have noticed the sly, satisfied smirk that crossed her face before being replaced with an almost innocent look of concern.

"Well," she started hesitantly, "there is… nah, never mind."

"What?"

"Nah, it's nothing. You'd never go for it anyway, I shouldn't have brought it up."

"Let me be the judge of that," he demanded hotly. "What were you getting at?"

Ruby took a deep breath, seemingly unsure of what she was about to say. "It's just that there is a way you can get stronger, but you won't like it."

Sam remained silent.

"And Dean wouldn't approve," she added when he didn't bite.

"Dean's not my boss," Sam huffed. "Just tell me."

"Well, your power comes from within you but you're only able to access it because of your blood."

"You mean the demon blood that Yellow-Eyes gave me when I was a baby," he clarified.

"Yeah, Sam, that blood. You're a very rare commodity, you know. Demon power with a human soul. A very powerful mix. And don't forget, a human conscience to control it."

She was always so careful to add that last line. "So what's this way of making me stronger?" he pressed impatiently. She had told him all of this before.

"You only got a drop of Azazel's blood. You need to thicken the mix a little," she finally blurted out.

"More of his blood?" Sam didn't like the sound of that. "But he's dead. Even if I would, I couldn't."

"Says who it has to be Azazel's?"

Sam jerked his head sharply towards her, studying her face and piecing together what she was proposing in his mind. Her blood. Demon blood was demon blood, after all.

"No. No way," he said firmly.

"It would just be…"

"I said no!" he cut her off sharply. His brother could barely look at him anymore with the small amount of tainted blood he had now, amping up the dosage was out of the question. He remembered the words Dean had thrown at him after catching him pulling a demon for the first time.

…_Do you even know how far off the reservation you've gone? How far from normal? From human? If I didn't know you, I would want to hunt you…_

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

The possessed man slumped to the floor as soon as the black smoke disappeared, mercifully dead. Dean turned immediately to Alex, who thankfully stopped screaming. He watched her drop heavily to her knees, her eyes still glazed over and out of focus. Looking worriedly down at her, he grabbed her arms just above the elbows, calling her name and trying desperately to catch a hint of recognition in her blue eyes.

It was clear she was disoriented and confused, but to what extent he could only guess.

…_into the minds of his human victims, turning them insane…_

She was suddenly fighting against his grasp, hitting his chest and pushing him away with her closed fists, her eyes still filled with fear and blind panic. He didn't let go but rather sank to his knees with her, pulling her in close despite her struggling.

"Hey, Lex, it's me, Dean. Lex, it's me." He repeated the words a few times, holding her tightly until her struggling stopped and he heard her whisper his name back to him, not sounding like she even recognized the word. But if she could speak then she couldn't be entirely insane, he surmised and a wave of relief swept through him.

Alex wasn't aware of much from the second she had closed the plywood circle to that very moment. She remembered the paralyzing fear that had completely taken her over, blocking anything and everything else from all of her six senses. The next moment, she was on her knees on a hard floor, frantically trying to achieve some lucidity among her swirling thoughts. She felt strong arms around her and finally she recognized one of the words the owner of the arms was speaking. _Dean_.

She whispered the vaguely familiar name back while still struggling to gain control of the faculties required to speak. The very act of voicing the word put some semblance of order to her thoughts and the cloud of confusion thinned out. Her heart continued to pound painfully in her chest and she fought to hold down the wave of panic that still threatened to wash over her.

She finally recognized the deep voice and the muscled arms as Dean's_. _Dean Winchester_. Dean was good, Dean was safe, she wasn't scared of Dean._ That much she knew. She closed her eyes, leaning into him and burying her face in his chest, still trying to make sense of everything else. Her heart was pounding so hard it hurt and her fists twisted in the fabric of his jacket sleeves. She concentrated on slowing her breathing, pushing away the fear and adrenaline the last few moments had brought. She had been temporarily stripped of any walls or guards she usually kept in place to avoid emotional vulnerability and freely soaked up the comfort Dean's presence was giving her. His voice was soft as he whispered soothing words, his cheek pressed against the top of her head. "You're alright Sunshine. I got ya. Everything's fine now."

She stayed where she was for a few moments, slowly gathering her wits and clearing her head. He obliged patiently, holding her close as her breathing evened out and she eventually stopped shaking. With her face still buried in his chest, she breathed in his scent, an unmistakably masculine odour with hints of leather, motor oil, whiskey, and sweat. A slight surge of what felt like nausea came over her and she wondered briefly if she'd suffered a concussion also. Her heart fluttered and she gasped in recognition.

Damnit. It was butterflies. How in the hell had she let that happen?

Alex pulled away from the hunter, quickly regaining her composure and putting her best gameface on. She threw Dean an awkward smile of gratitude as he followed her lead and rose to his feet, pulling himself up to his full six-foot-one height and studying her closely.

She ran her fingers through her hair and let out a relieved sigh before noticing the naked, burned body sprawled on the floor behind Dean. "What happened?" she croaked, her voice hoarse and scratchy. She absently rubbed her throat, not sure why it felt that way.

"Exorcised," Dean replied simply. "The guy didn't make it. Probably a good thing."

"So it's over." she breathed. "It's over."

"Yeah, he's gone and we're still alive." Dean grinned at her. "Told ya," he said with a wink.

She managed a weak laugh, remembering his insistence that his plan would work while they were setting up the trap. "Thank-you," she said earnestly.

"Don't thank me," he shrugged. "You got him in the devil's trap."

"Not for that. For staying. For not leaving me." She held the hunter's gaze. "Thank-you."

"Consider us even," he said with a shrug that was an obvious attempt to appear casual as he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Sam's number. He put the phone to his ear but while waiting through the rings on the other end, he added more softly, "Lex, I'm not gonna let you face anything like that alone. Ever."

Alex knew he was referring to Red-Eyes and her reluctance to divulge the details on her stalker but before she could argue, his attention was snatched by the voice in his ear.

SP**N-SPN-SPN**

Sam stopped short as he quite abruptly came to the edge of the trees and saw the lonely stretch of highway snaking across the land forty feet in front of him. Ruby, who hadn't pressed the blood donating issue after being cut off, came to a halt next to him.

"So what's the plan now?" she asked.

Sam swallowed. "We wait for a car, flag it down, get to the nearest town with the medallion, and wait for Dean to call."

He saw the doubtful look that crossed her face but didn't acknowledge it, refusing to believe that Dean wouldn't call. His brother could think on his feet and would surely outsmart the demon in the end, especially when he had an innocent person with him to protect. Dean may not give a crap about himself or his own soul anymore, but he still cared fiercely about saving the souls of other people. Especially Alex. Dean had a protective nature and she fell right into the _'__needs serious looking after__'_ category. He would fight tooth and nail to keep her safe and give it all he had; of that Sam was certain. Hopefully, that would be enough.

As if in answer to his silent pleas, his phone rang that very moment. He dug it from his pocket as quickly as he could, his spirits falling at the words 'unknown number' on his display. It wasn't Dean, he thought with dismay.

"Hello?" he answered, his voice hitching.

"_Sammy?"_

"Dean!" Sam thought his heart was going to explode with joy at the sound of his brother's voice. He had forgotten Dean and Alex had both replaced their phones earlier this afternoon. "Are you okay?"

"_Yeah, we're good. Aragon's toast."_

Sam chuckled. "It's Agramon," he corrected, feeling almost giddy with relief.

"_Whatever. Listen, we're gonna try fix the Impala. Where are you?"_

"I'm at the highway. Should I come back?"

"_Nah. I'm sure it's just a yanked cable or something. You stay put; I'll come pick you up. I say we haul ass as far from Marty's cabin as we can."_

"Couldn't agree more," Sam laughed, almost sorry to hang up as his brother said good-bye and the line went dead with a click.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC...**_

_Next up... Cas finally pops back in and gets a little surprise..._


	11. Something of a Personal Nature

**Chapter 11**** - S****omething of a Personal Nature**

The problem with the Impala was indeed just a yanked wire, much to Dean's relief, and within ten minutes, he and Alex were driving back down the dirt road they had traveled in on just a few hours earlier. Their pace this time was more hurried, however, and Dean didn't bother to gripe as much about his baby's chassis and paint job being in danger of sustaining injury. They met Sam and Ruby at the end of the road where Alex hopped out and climbed in the back, giving the younger Winchester his usual shotgun seat.

"Dude, you look terrible," was Dean's greeting as his giant of a brother climbed in, dried blood still smeared across his face.

Still grinning in relief at his brother still being alive to insult him, Sam pulled the rear view mirror around to get a better look and washed the blood off wordlessly with holy water and the corner of his shirt.

"So what happened?" Ruby piped up from the back seat. "How'd you dust Agramon?" She sounded grudgingly impressed.

Dean gallantly credited Alex with the kill. "Lex trapped him in a portable Devil's Trap."

"You're the one who exorcised him," Alex acknowledged, her voice still raspy.

"What happened to your voice?" Sam asked her, offering her the holy water to soothe her throat.

Alex shrugged as she took the flask from the young hunter. "I dunno," she said honestly. "He had me by the throat at one point."

Dean snickered. He hadn't yet filled her in on all the details, not sure how to explain how close she probably came to becoming either a nut job or a complete vegetable.

"It wasn't his hand on your throat," he informed her, grinning into the rear view mirror. "It was you screaming bloody murder for like five minutes straight."

Alex flushed slightly. "I don't remember that," she denied uncertainly, "Besides, I don't scream; do I look like Tara Benchley to you?"

Dean laughed out loud now and turned to Sam. "Dude, remember that Banshee we took down with Dad in California?"

Sam nodded. That banshee had screamed so loudly the windows had shattered, giving him and Dean cuts and scratches all over their faces that they'd had a hard time explaining them in school the next day.

"Well," Dean continued teasing, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to indicate the blonde sitting behind him, "she was worse than that." He was enjoying the rare moment of levity with his brother, even if it was fueled by relief from a brush with death.

Sam noticed Alex blushing furiously, obviously embarrassed at the thought of screaming 'like a banshee' and came to her defence. "Don't worry Alex. I've heard Dean scream like a ten-year-old schoolgirl. I mean, it went on for like a minute and was about six octaves higher than any horror flick chick."

Alex laughed. "Yeah, right," she said, not believing him for a second but thankful to the younger Winchester for his attempt.

"No, seriously. And it was all because a little cat jumped out of a locker at him." Sam proceeded to tell the entire story of Dean's bout with ghost sickness, ignoring his brother's grumbled warnings to zip it. The audience in the back seat roared with laughter at Dean's fear of using fake FBI badges and his refusal to carry a gun in case it went off, instead offering to man the flashlight.

"Gee, thanks Sam!" Dean's voice was laden with sarcasm and annoyance. Thank God he hadn't told Sam about running from the little dog with the friggin' pink bow. "Any more embarrassing stories you want to share?"

Alex curbed her laughter and squeezed his shoulder from behind. "Don't worry, Dean," she placated. "It's only funny because it's so out of character for you. The one thing nobody can ever accuse you of being is a coward."

"Hmph," was Dean's only response, though to Sam's surprise, he seemed sufficiently pacified. Sam found it amusing how easily Alex seemed to handle his brother at times.

They drove well into the night, trying to put some distance between them and what was left of Marty's cabin. They dropped Ruby off at a diner near Tulsa at the demon's request and only Sam bothered to say good-bye. None of them had slept in two days and Dean finally pulled over at a cheap motel in Liberal, not too far from where Bobby was sweet-talking his cranky host out of a copy of _The Carligan Book of Demons and Demonic Artifacts._

Dean manoeuvred the Impala up to the motel's office, the last in a row of scratched, paint-peeling doors with a faded wooden 'open' sign hanging on it. He headed into the office to check-in, leaving Sam and Alex fighting off sleep in the car.

"Hey, you awake?" Alex asked the younger Winchester softly from the back seat.

Sam arched his back and stretched his arms as much as he could within the confines of the car, groaning and letting loose a deep yawn in reply as he turned to face her.

"Yeah, I know how you feel," she agreed, her every muscle craving a soft bed and some shut-eye. "Listen, can I ask you something?" she asked quietly. "I didn't want to bring it up in front of Dean."

She definitely had Sam's attention now. He leaned one arm over the back of the seat, trying to stop his lips from curling into a knowing smile. "Yeah, sure. What is it?"

She bit her lip, wondering how the best way to approach the subject was.

"What do you feel when you do your exorcising-mind thing?" she finally came out with.

Sam raised an eyebrow in surprise. Not the topic he had been expecting. For some reason he had been thinking she was going to ask a question about Dean, something of a personal nature, like did he have a girlfriend tucked away in some town somewhere... Maybe he had called things wrong on that front after all. Either way, a question along those lines would have definitely been preferable to the one she was asking now.

"Uh, I don't know really," he stammered. "Kind of a rush in my head, I guess. Why?"

"It's just that tonight, when you did what you did to those demons at the car and then when you tried again with Agramon..." she hesitated, reluctant to finish."I felt you. You know, in my head."

The implication intended by her words didn't hit Sam right away. "What do you mean?" he asked. "You sensed me?"

"Yeah." She nodded.

Sam wrinkled his nose and pursed his lips in thought. "Well, that makes sense," he admitted. "It is a psychic ability, after all, same as yours."

Alex looked uncomfortable. "No, Sam. I don't mean I felt you laying some mojo. I mean I felt you the same as I feel demons. The same as I felt Agramon."

"What are you saying?" Sam's voice wavered slightly at the end of the question, not sure he wanted her to answer.

She pursed her lips for a moment, a look of concentration on her face as she hesitated. "I'm saying Dean was right. I'm saying you shouldn't ever use your powers again. I'm saying I didn't just feel psychic power, Sam, I felt evil," she said bluntly, seeing that he wasn't getting her point with the tiptoe approach.

Sam was quiet for a few seconds, skilfully keeping all shock and emotional reaction to her words hidden from his face. Deep inside, there had always been this small part of him that knew there was no good side to the powers Yellow-Eyes had given him. There was a nagging voice in his head that told him he was playing with fire every time he used them but he chose to ignore it, confident that he was strong enough to retain control. To stop when he needed to stop. To resist that underlying urge to just keep pushing, turning them on something else, anything else, in order sustain that sensation of power and control.

Using his abilities required that he draw on a power he felt coursing through him but otherwise never tapped into. The power was in the demon blood, his blood – he knew that much. It was that power she must have been feeling, not him.

"Could be that's just how you sense things," he objected. "Just 'cause it gives you a headache doesn't make it bad."

She shook her head. "I felt your angel. He didn't feel evil at all. There's definitely a difference."

"He's not my angel," Sam corrected absently. "He's Dean's." Alex was probably just confused. "You said Agramon felt pretty intense," he said in an almost accusatory tone. "Are you sure it wasn't him you were sensing?"

"No," she denied with confidence. "He managed to sneak up on us because all I could feel was you exorcising those demons at the car. It was definitely you but it was definitely evil as well." Sam had turned back around in his seat to face forward and she reached over and put a hand on his shoulder. "Please don't use the power again. It changes you, Sam."

"I think it's just the power you feel, Alex," he said stubbornly. "The Force, remember? I'm Luke, demons are Vaders."

She let out a little chuckle at her own analogy being thrown back at her before once again turning serious. "I think maybe you're more Anakin than Luke," she told him. "And in episode three, Anakin turns into Vader. He gives in to the Dark Side."

"I'm not going to turn into a demon," he replied, a little hotly. This was a touchy subject. He already felt certain that Dean thought he was going to go darkside if he kept using these powers, even if his brother hadn't admitted as much. He had been pleased to have an ally in his argument and really didn't need her switching to Dean's side of the fence.

"I'm not telling you what to do," she insisted, "I just thought you should be aware." They saw Dean coming out of the motel office door, making his way back to the car. "Look, I'm not gonna tell him," she added quickly. "That's between you two. Just promise me you won't ever use them on my account," she finished, "because I don't want that on my conscience."

Sam wasn't given time to mull her words over because Dean yanked open the driver's door, sliding himself into his seat and tossing Sam a room key. "Lucky thirteen," he said, starting up the Impala's ignition.

"One room?" Sam and Alex questioned in unison, neither sounding impressed.

"Guys, we're all grown-ups," Dean replied with a roll of the eyes. "And we need to have someone awake on lookout at all times anyway. At least for the next little while." He glanced over at his brother and in the rear view mirror at the blonde. "Besides," he added honestly, "they only had the one room left."

"Well, I hope one of you doesn't mind the floor," Alex chirped, "'cause I call dibs on one of the beds."

The room was surprisingly nice on the inside, at least in comparison to the motel's deceptively shabby exterior.

"I'll take first watch," Dean said in the form of a command, throwing his duffel on the table and pulling out a chair.

"No way," Sam challenged, his tone equally authoritative. "Dean you've been driving all night and you haven't rested since you got banged up pretty bad last night. I dozed off in the car for a bit, so I'll take the first shift."

Dean was about to argue, more out of habit than anything else but stopped himself before he voiced any words, realizing he was truly exhausted and wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and close his eyes. Instead he yanked his boots off and threw himself of the bed closest to the door. He threw a tentative peek over at Alex, who had removed her footwear also and was crawling tiredly under the covers of the other queen. Hopefully he was exhausted enough that his body wouldn't allow his sleep to be interrupted by potentially embarrassing nightmares.

Sam opened up his laptop like he usually did when he had time to spare and continued his internet search for any useful information relating to their current mission. Judging by the slow, even breathing, both Dean and Alex had fallen asleep within minutes; Alex on her side facing the room and Dean on his back on top of the covers, jacket spread over him and knife under his pillow.

Sam thought about the information Alex had divulged in the car and was thankful she had said that she wouldn't mention it to Dean. He couldn't deny he knew this power was evil, though he usually managed not to admit that fact even to himself, but he also knew he could control it. There had never been a time when he felt even remotely worried about the power gaining control of him. Nevertheless, he thought, he should refrain from using it unless it was necessary.

He sighed in frustration at his own indecisiveness. He was constantly flip-flopping between doing as his brother - and now Alex - asked and what Ruby recommended, which was to keep practicing so he could eventually take on Lillith. The benefit of the first option was that he could stop lying to Dean. Of course, that wouldn't help Dean with the multitude of other obstacles the elder Winchester was currently dealing with, namely memories of Hell, guilt about Hell, being the angels' favourite puppet, being at the top of the demons' most-wanted list, and the impending apocalypse.

Ruby's option may hurt Dean's feelings if he found out about it, but it would eventually take care of most of the other issues. As he pondered, Sam found his decision reversing again, this time to keep practicing and keep hiding it from his brother. It wasn't crossing a line. Drinking Ruby's blood would be crossing a line, but what he was doing now wasn't. He was just using what he already had inside of him to his advantage, to _their_ advantage.

Sam shifted uncomfortably in the motel room chair. Why were chairs all one standard size? Couldn't they supply a larger one for people like him with long legs and an even longer torso? He shifted the medallion around in his pocket to a more comfortable position and felt another object behind it. The flash drive from Bryce Dennison.

He pulled it out and toyed with it between his fingers, fighting the urge to take a peek. He had called Alex and told her that her uncle had shown up and she had simply said okay and informed him that she would be picking up a new phone to avoid being traced again. She had asked no questions and had said nothing on the matter since. His intention had been to give her the drive but with all the chaos, he had forgotten about it. Eventually his curiosity won out over good manners and respect for her privacy and he plugged it in his laptop's USB port, assuring himself that he'd stop if it got too personal.

The drive contained over a hundred files dating from 1989 to the present. Sam scanned the first few files that turned out to be accident reports and medical records from Alex's childhood. The young hunter was appalled at the lists of injuries the girl had suffered as a child, from broken wrists, cracked ribs, and concussions to countless large cuts and nasty bruises. He had thought his and Dean's childhood rap sheets of injuries were unparalleled but Alex's was definitely in the same ballpark. And these were just the injuries she hadn't managed to hide.

The next folder contained reports documenting Dennison's assessments of young Alex's mental state. Feeling guilty but unable to stop himself, Sam clicked open the first one, dated 1991 when Alex was eight years old. Dennison had written that it was his belief his niece was exhibiting self-destructive behavior as a reaction to two issues she was dealing with. The first was to get attention from her parents, who were, in Dennison's opinion, demonstrating an obvious favoritism towards her older brother Joshua, who was achieving academic excellence in school, was popular and well liked, and was regularly winning significant sporting events.

Sam snorted quietly in understanding. He knew too well what it was like to have an older brother that excelled at everything. Well, maybe not the school part, but John Winchester never placed much importance on school grades anyway, believing what he taught his sons about hunting and surviving would be far more necessary skills in later life than anything the boys would learn in school. Dean had been the perfect obedient soldier for John his whole life. Sam could never understand why his big brother felt he never measured up. Sam had always believed it was him that had always disappointed John, not Dean. He realized now the blame for both of their inner doubts lay with their dad, but that had become a moot point since the older Winchester's death.

Dennison believed the second reason for Alex's supposed destructive behavior was a past traumatic event. At five years old, Alex had been home alone with her grandmother when the elderly woman had passed away. She had been found almost six hours later, sitting next to the body and claiming that her Grammy was still in the room and hurting her head. She had clung to that delusion for weeks afterwards, insisting Grammy hadn't left the house.

Sam realized he was holding his breath in enormous sympathy as he read through Dennison's unemotional assessment of his own niece. In layman's terms, it seemed he believed very strongly that Alex was causing the injuries herself in an effort to gain the attention of her parents and that it seemed likely her first-hand experience with death at a young age had triggered beliefs in ghosts and monsters that had later became the imagined cause of her injuries.

_What a close-minded bastard_. Feeling like he had already overstepped, Sam closed the files out, refusing to read anymore. He went back online and typed _Medallion of Eridu_ into the search engine.

Almost four hours passed in peace and the sun was poking its head up from the East, slipping orange-tinted rays in through the small cracks at the sides of the curtain. Sam had decided to give the others as much sleep as they needed, magnanimously neglecting shift change. He would catch-up on his Z's at some point later on.

His charitable intentions, however, were made irrelevant when he heard a moan from Dean's direction. He looked up sharply to see his brother's arms moving with jerking motions and his head starting to toss from side to side. He moved quickly over to Dean's side, recognizing the signs of another Hellish nightmare. He quietly tried to rouse his brother from his restless sleep without waking Alex. Dean would never forgive him if he let her witness one of his screaming-in-his-sleep incidents.

"Dean!" he whispered, bending over his brother and shaking him softly. With his eyes still closed, Dean began fighting him, pushing at his chest, obviously mistaking him for some violent enemy. Sam grabbed his brother's wrists to prevent himself from getting a jab in the face. "Dean!" he called, a little louder.

"No!" Dean cried, his voice a loud but strained whisper at this point. Sam knew from history that his brother was going to scream out at any minute. He had to snap him out of it quickly without waking the girl sleeping six feet away. He clamped one hand over Dean's mouth and shook him hard, calling his name in a whispered shout.

Dean's eyes shot open and he struggled violently for about a second, managing to pound his free fist painfully into Sam's bicep and a knee into his ribcage before clarity hit him and he froze, realizing what was happening. Sam waited for the gleam of recognition to show in his eyes before removing the hand from Dean's mouth, jerking his head towards the adjacent bed to remind his brother they had an audience.

Dean shook himself free of Sam's grip and was about to chew his brother out for the very uncool wake-up tactics but he silenced himself when he followed his brother's head-tilt and saw the silhouette in the adjacent bed. He peered cautiously at Alex's face to find her eyes were closed and she wasn't moving, giving all appearances that she was still asleep. He was suddenly thankful to his brother for his subtlety. Normally he was unbearably embarrassed and ashamed when Sam had to wake him from a bad dream during which he had been screaming and moaning out loud. He usually vented this embarrassment as anger and snippiness towards Sam. As unfair as that was, he just couldn't help himself. He'd rather his brother be pissed at him than pity him since when pissed off, Sam was less likely to ask him about it. However, this time he gave his brother a civil nod of thanks, sitting up as Sam straightened up and moved away.

Dean glanced over at the alarm clock and rose quickly, moving over to join Sam at the table. "Dude," he whispered. "You were supposed to wake me almost an hour ago. Your turn."

Realizing Dean wasn't about to go back to sleep, Sam agreed with a silent nod and lay down on the bed his brother had just vacated. Like Dean a few hours earlier, he was asleep within minutes.

Dean took up his brother's position in front of the laptop, wishing he had insisted on getting a coffee for himself before letting Sam drift off. He couldn't concentrate on his internet search, his mind insisting on replaying the events of the previous evening. Why couldn't Sam see how wrong his powers were? He shuddered at the memory of his brother taking down the three demons at the car and felt nauseous when his thoughts moved on to the sight of Sam, arm outstretched, bleeding like crazy and falling to his knees as he battled Agramon demon-style.

Then there was Alex. He looked over at the sleeping blonde and couldn't help thinking how peaceful she looked compared to the state he had seen her in last night under Agramon's influence. He had dragged her into this. He should have said no when she had asked to come along with them. It had been a selfish decision on his part. He could admit to himself he liked having her around. Even when she was having her Josh-like moments of reflection, she made him smile. Things didn't seem quite so hopeless and the future quite so bleak when she was in the room, her optimistic perspective being irresistibly contagious.

It was for these reasons he had allowed her life to be put in danger so he could continue enjoying her company. There really wasn't an excuse for that. He was the one always telling Sam that they should keep their distance from people and not to get too close, but in the end he was the one who kept letting people in. He owed Josh one Hell of an apology.

An hour later found him still staring blankly at Sam's laptop screen, deep in thought. He peeked out the window, trying not to let too much of the morning sun drift into the room in fear of disturbing the sleeping pair. It was early and the motel yard was quiet, the other guests still in their rooms. He was about to drop the curtain back in place when he saw the Impala's headlights flash on and off a few times in a row. Instantly tensing, he reached for his Colt .45 on the table and returned his gaze out the window.

He relaxed when he saw Castiel, standing calmly in front of his car looking directly at him. Hoping he hadn't drifted off to sleep leaving them all vulnerable, he quietly slipped outside to speak to the angel, closing the door behind him.

"Dude, don't mess with my car," he said in mock warning as he walked up to Cas.

"I assure you, I did no damage," was the serious reply.

Dean rolled his eyes. "You really have to learn about humour, Cas," he said pleasantly. "Quick question, am I dreaming right now?"

Cas shook his head. "No."

Dean was relieved. At least he hadn't fallen asleep on duty.

"Did you recover the medallion?" Cas asked, getting right to business.

"Mission accomplished, Jim," Dean joked, knowing already the angel wouldn't get the joke or appreciate the humour.

He was right. Castiel simply nodded. "I assume you ran into some trouble?"

Dean raised an eyebrow. "You could say that. Why do you ask?"

"We angels have certain sources of information that, although questionable in motive, are seldom wrong. It has been brought to my attention that your brother has," Cas paused for a brief moment, either searching for the right word or doing it for effect, "disposed of seven demons in the past three days with his unique abilities."

"It wasn't all him, Cas," Dean defended. "I ganked some with the knife and even he used the knife when he had a choice," he continued, not admitting that he himself had given Sam grief for the choice the kid had made. "He only used his powers on four of them." Dean realized as he was speaking that reducing the number would not appease the angel.

Cas gave him a hard stare. "He used his powers on seven, Dean," he said evenly. "You need to deal with this. I have told you there are others who are not as trusting as I have been with Sam."

Dean tensed and he threw the angel a warning scowl. The back of his mind was spinning with this new information, realizing Sam had lied to him and had taken down three other demons during this gig without telling him. However, foremost in his thoughts was the veiled threat Cas was again aiming at his brother. He was about to delve into the whole 'I can handle Sam' speech when the motel room door opened behind him and Sam appeared, squinting slightly in the morning sun as he stepped outside to join them.

"Hey Cas," he greeted the angel in a friendly voice.

Dean heard a gasp from Cas's direction and spun his head back around to see the angel's face suddenly contorted with pain and his borrowed body shuddering. He looked as though he was struggling to speak but no words came out.

"Cas?" Dean's voice was full of concern. "Cas! What's wrong?"

The angel swayed and struggled to stay on his feet, slamming his hand open-palmed on the Impala's sleek hood behind him in an effort to hold himself up before his eyes rolled back in his head. Castiel's knees gave out and Dean lunged forward to catch him when he started to drop. Throwing Cas's arm over his shoulder and hoisting him back up, Dean turned sharply to Sam. "The medallion! Do you have the medallion on you?"

Confused and concerned also, Sam's train of thought was only a few seconds behind his brother's. He patted his jeans pocket and his eyes widened in realization when his hand felt the hard round object through the cloth. "Yeah," he said, backing away quickly.

"It's hurting him!" Dean snapped. "Get back inside!"

Sam did so hastily, retreating back into the room and dashing to peek out through the window at his brother, who was propping Cas up against the Impala, the angel's head still slumped forward.

Dean grabbed Cas by the front of his shirt, bunching the material up in his fist to hold him steady and silently cursing himself for letting the guy sit on his baby's hood. He used his other hand to lift Castiel's head up by the chin, watching with relief as the blue eyes slowly regained focus.

"Dude, you okay?" he ventured after a few seconds.

Cas swallowed, tilting his head sideways to free his chin from Dean's thumb and forefinger. Dean backed off, releasing the angel's shirt and taking a step away, a little embarrassed at the contact but surprised at how worried he had been. Cas could be a dick, but he was a likeable dick. Dean didn't want any harm to come to him.

"I'll be fine," the angel managed though Dean noticed he stayed seated on the hood of the Impala.

"The medallion did that?" the hunter asked, already knowing the answer.

Cas nodded.

"Well, at least we know we got the right one," Dean quipped, not sure what else to say.

"There isn't much that can kill an angel," Cas said, his voice quickly returning to its usual rich, even tone. "But as far as we know, that medallion can kill us on contact. It is also apparently quite harmful in close proximity." He pulled himself back to his feet, adjusting his coat and straightening his shirt and tie to their usual 'casual loose' position.

"Well, don't worry," Dean told him. "We may have found a way to destroy it. Then you and your buddy Uriel won't have to worry about any embarrassing fainting spells."

Castiel looked at him sharply, ignoring the friendly tease. "There is no way to destroy the medallion," he said flatly.

Dean shrugged. "Bobby thinks he may have found a way to strip it of its powers."

"No, Dean. The method of which he speaks is not a viable option. You are to keep the medallion safe for now, nothing more."

"I don't think I'm the one for that job, Cas," the hunter frowned. "If you got a monster that needs ganking, I'm your man, but protection duty's not really my thing."

"Funny," Cas said with the biggest hint of a smile he had given Dean to date as he glanced pointedly over to the window at Sam, who was still peering out. "That seems to be exactly your thing. It always has been."

"This is going to make our little tetes-a-tetes a little difficult, don't you think?" Dean pressed but the angel was gone and he found himself standing alone by his car.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC…**_

_Next up... A little fun and a visit from Pamela..._


	12. Disarm the Idjit

**Chapter 12**** - ****Disarm the Idjit**

Sam came outside to discuss Castiel's visit with Dean without waking Alex. "Was it the medallion doing that to him?" he asked, already sure of the answer.

"Yeah, apparently it's like angel kryptonite," Dean confirmed chuckling at the irony that the stone in its center was green.

"So what did he say? He know how to destroy it?"

Dean snorted. "That's the weird part. He ordered me not to. He said just sit tight and hang on to it."

Sam frowned. "If Bobby finds a way to stop this thing from killing angels, which obviously it can do, why would Cas tell us not to go through with it?"

"I dunno, Sam. Friggin' angels never make a lick of sense. But I'm all for hangin' on to it. It could come in handy."

"Dean, don't start that again."

"Well it seems your extra-curricular activities these past three days haven't exactly been flying under the angel radar!" Dean threw his brother a stern, disapproving look but didn't elaborate. He didn't want to get into this fight right now. "Cas wasn't happy with you and he's about the happiest of the bunch from what I can tell. We may need that medallion someday."

"What if this is another test?" Sam argued. He wasn't afraid of Castiel. Or Uriel.

"How so?"

"To see where your loyalties lie, Dean. Your true loyalties are supposed to lie with saving the world and all of humanity, not just saving me."

Dean listened but didn't answer his brother. It was the truth - his loyalties did lie with keeping Sam safe. Above _anything_ else. Without Sam, he really wouldn't care what happened to the rest of the world, himself included. It didn't seem wrong to him to feel that way about his baby brother.

Sam was spurred on by Dean's silence and he continued his argument. "By hanging on to this medallion, you're choosing to risk Hell on Earth - Armageddon, the freaking Apocalypse - just in case I get on the wrong side of Uriel. You can't keep putting this on me Dean. It's not fair."

Dean threw his brother a questioning look, not sure how any blame for his decision would fall back on the younger Winchester's shoulders.

Sam's voice softened slightly. "I have every right to risk my life for what I believe in too. You do it all the time and I deal with it. I dealt with you going to Hell to protect me, I'm not going to deal with the rest of the world following suit. You need to stop throwing yourself and everybody else under a bus for me."

They started at each other for a moment, neither sure of what to say next. Dean clenched his jaw but remained silent.

Sam sighed, seeing he wasn't getting anywhere with his stubborn brother. "This medallion is dangerous, Dean. To everyone on the planet, not just angels. To Bobby, to Ellen and Jo, to Alex. Way too dangerous to be carting around hoping at every turn we don't get ambushed by Lillith's army trying to get their hands on it. You know it's the right thing to do, no matter what Cas says. If this is a test, destroying the medallion is the passing move."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Unable to even contemplate sleeping at this point, Sam went on a Java run and returned to the room to find Alex awake and griping about the guys skipping her turn on watch. Dean playfully threw a pillow at her to shut her up but was saved from her retaliation by Sam's cell phone ringing.

"Hey Bobby, what's up?" the young hunter answered quickly, silently praising the older man's impeccable timing.

"_Good news and bad news, kid_."

"Uh, start with the bad news, I guess."

"Whoa, wait!" Alex interjected, making a guess on the topic of conversation. "Always start with the good news."

Sam rolled his eyes but conceded. "Make that good news first, Bobby."

"_Well, I got the book and there is a way to strip the medallion of its power to kill angels and the book has a very detailed explanation of how to do it_."

"And the bad?" Sam asked.

"_Bad news is the details_."

"Not an easy spell?" Sam wrinkled his nose in disappointment.

"_That'd be an understatement_."

Why was that not surprising? "How bad?"

"_We need some weird shit, but most of it's stuff I can rustle up. But there's a couple of big ticket items we're gonna need some help locating_."

"What kind of help?"

"_Sassy. Blind. Nice ass. _"

"Pamela?"

"_You always were the sharp one, kid. On my way to get her now. I'll be there by lunchtime. You boys just stay put and try to keep out of trouble 'til I get there_."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Keeping out of trouble proved to be easy enough but Dean was bored. Laying low in a stuffy motel room was one of his least favourite pastimes, especially a crappy one with twelve porn channels and only two regular ones. Well, usually the excessive porn wasn't a problem but Dean didn't figure Alex would appreciate the masterful cinematography of '_Busty Asian Beauties Blow into Manhattan'_.

"Wow, you're cranky when you're bored," Alex laughed.

"Tell me about it," Sam joined in. "I've been dealing with that for twenty five years."

"Let's go outside and get some fresh air," she suggested.

"I don't do walks," Dean groused. "And Bobby said to stay put."

"Since when did you obey anybody that wasn't Dad?" Sam said, standing up, a book in his hand. "Let's go sit out back; it's sunny and there's even a little park."

Alex jumped up to join Sam, eager to get out of the room also. Dean called out to them from where he sat stubbornly on the bed, arms folded as he leaned against the headboard, boots still on. "You want to sit in the park?" he scoffed. "You gonna bring a friggin' picnic basket, Sammy?" Despite the teasing, however, he eventually relented and followed them out the door with a groan.

Sam sat at a picnic table reading one of the books Bobby had brought from South Dakota. For his entire life as a hunter, he had been taught not to pay much attention to the angel lore and biblical specifics. In light of Dean's ass being rescued from Hell by one, he had a lot of catching up to do. He also hoped that eventually he would dig up some grain of information that could help him find and kill Lillith.

Although concentrating on the book in hand, Sam was a natural multi-tasker and inattentively listened to the idle chatter of the other two, who were sitting on a park bench close by. Dean was not a morning person and had managed to get very little sleep in the past two days which only made his sour morning disposition worse. As always, his bad mood improved as the day rolled on and he seemed quite cheery now. Sam smirked to himself, thinking that wasn't an infrequent occurrence with Alex around. She wasn't exactly the most somber person they'd ever met and when she was in a good mood, it was infectious. Dean in particular seemed affected by her cheery nature.

They had about three hours to kill until Bobby was due to arrive with Pamela and Sam noticed that his brother and Alex managed to chat comfortably for two and a half of those hours without either one actually revealing a single intimate detail or emotion about themselves. He was starting to figure they could keep it up indefinitely but eventually, it got personal.

"No way! You were a PA on Hell Hazers? You met Tara Benchley? From Boogeyman? That's so cool!" Alex sounded impressed. She was cross-legged on the bench facing Dean.

"Oh, I more than met her," Dean boasted with a cocky grin.

Sam closed his eyes and groaned inwardly. How did his brother of all people not know that you don't tell women about your prior conquests?

"Yeah, right!" she scoffed with a disbelieving grin. "Is that true Sam?"

Sam looked up long enough to give her a confirming nod before turning back to his book.

"Wow, that's pretty impressive," Alex admitted. "What was she like?"

Dean raised an eyebrow.

"I mean personality-wise!" Alex clarified quickly, flushing slightly.

"She was cool, I guess. I don't know, really. I knew her for like, a day." Actually, a day was exaggerating. "So what happened with you and the cop?" Dean asked, realizing his mistake and trying to deflect. He regretted his question when he saw the smile on her face disappear for a split second.

"Ah," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. "My fault. I decided to come clean."

"Ooh, kiss of death that one," Dean winced, remembering Cassie's reaction when he had come clean, telling her what he really did for a job. He remembered being much more than broken-hearted at being dumped. He had felt a sudden sense of overwhelming hopelessness. It had been a wake-up call as to just how alone he would always be. He'd had a taste of what a semi-normal life with someone special to share it with would be like (someone who wasn't his farty, grouchy, hairy brother) and then it had all been ripped away. Hunting was who he was and it had stung to see that he couldn't have both hunting and Cassie. This epiphany coming just months after his brother had left him in search of white collar normalcy and Stanford had made it all the more hurtful. "You told him about Red-Eyes?" he asked Alex.

"Yeah. I guess it was a bit too much for him. He kept insisting he believed me, but then he just stopped calling. Josh and I had to leave town early because he was a cop after all and we couldn't take the chance he'd turn me in."

Dean snorted his disgust at the guy's behavior. "Guy was a coward. His loss."

Alex shrugged, not missing the compliment but not sure how it was meant and not really wanting to find out. At this point, she didn't know which would be worse, that Dean had feelings for her or that he didn't. Safer to just steer clear of that altogether. She had decided after the incident with the cop that if you keep feelings out of your love life, you get by just fine. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. "He wasn't a coward, he was just normal," she said quietly.

Dean decided it was time for a change of subject. "So before you became a part-time hunter, what did you want to be?" he asked, pulling the abrupt subject change ploy from Alex's playbook. He remembered that she and Josh had sung together in the bar in Dayton last year and were actually pretty good. She could also play guitar and piano that he knew of, couldn't enter a room without turning the radio on, and her iPod was an almost permanent extension to her ear. "A rock star?" he teased.

Alex laughed. "God no. The whole musician thing was Josh's dream, not mine. To be honest, when I was young, I didn't really figure on living long enough to put much thought into a career. How about you?"

"Hunter," was Dean's immediate response, his mind reeling as it processed her casually spoken but probably very true comment about not expecting to live for into to adulthood. That just wasn't right.

"Oh come on," she pressed. "You must have had some fantasy when you were little. Astronaut? Race car driver? I see you as more the fireman type. Or maybe a Chip'n'Dale's dancer."

Dean shook his head. "Nope. Hunter. From day one."

Sam lifted his head again to interrupt. "That's true too," he offered before Alex could ask. He didn't elaborate to explain that Dean hadn't been given a choice and had never even contemplated straying from his father's plans for him as Sam had.

"Huh," Alex looked thoughtfully at Dean. "Well, I suppose you are really good at it. Probably a good choice for you."

"I am," he agreed, giving her a handsome grin to ease her into his next topic of conversation. "We are," he added, gesturing towards Sam also. "Which is why you need to tell us everything about Red-Eyes."

Alex huffed wearily and shook her head, dropping her feet back down onto the grass. "Can we just concentrate on destroying the medallion for now?" she pleaded.

Sam put his book down and swung one of his long legs over the picnic table bench to face her. He agreed with Dean. She couldn't keep running from this thing her entire life. At some point, she had to let someone take care of it for her. If anyone could do it, it was the Winchesters. Maybe he could even take it out with his ability. Of course, Ruby had all but agreed that he would need to take more drastic measures to get any stronger, and that was a line he couldn't cross. It was a line Alex wouldn't want him to cross.

"All we're asking for is information," Dean encouraged.

"Yeah, right," Alex snapped. "Like you wouldn't go after it if you thought you'd figured out a way to take it out."

Dean shrugged, admitting nothing but implying she was right. "Look, I get it," he argued. "You don't want us to get hurt. We won't. We're careful."

She gave him a '_yeah whatever'_ eyeroll. If she'd learned anything in the past few days, it was that the Winchesters took risks, especially if someone's life was at stake.

Dean wasn't giving up this time. "I know some people have been killed when you've gone after this thing before, but we're not just anyone," he pressed.

Alex stood up quickly and looked as though she was going to walk away before spinning back around to face them. "_Some people_!" she cried, breathing heavily as her eyes darted back and forth between the brothers. "It wasn't just _some people_! It was _my parents_!" her voice hitched on the last word and she looked quickly away towards some kids who were playing by the swings.

Both brothers fell silent for a moment, not sure what to say. Alex just stood there, clenching her jaw, avoiding eye contact with either of them. She tried to blink back the tears welling in her lower eyelids.

It was Sam who spoke first. "Josh told me they died in a burglary," he said quietly.

Alex swallowed but remained standing. "No," she answered, hands on her hips, struggling to keep her voice steady. "That's just what the police report says. Josh and I tried to exorcise Red-Eyes and he got pissed. He put Josh in a coma and then he killed my parents because he wanted to teach me a lesson."

"That's not your fault," said Dean sincerely.

"Look, I don't expect you to understand," she replied with a sigh, still avoiding eye contact.

"Actually, I do understand," Dean said softly, surprising her with a confession of his own. "My father traded his life for mine. He's dead because of me, so I know exactly how you feel."

"So do I," admitted Sam.

"I'm not dead anymore, Sam," Dean reminded his brother.

"I meant Mom."

"Mom dying was not your fault," Dean scolded him instinctively.

"Yellow Eyes was after me," Sam argued. "That makes it as much my fault as Dad's death was yours or Alex's parents' was hers."

Alex looked at both Winchesters in turn, knowing they were telling the truth and feeling sympathy for each of them. She had never known anyone who could truly relate to her particular form of guilt before and felt strangely closer to them because of it. The look Dean was giving Sam now wasn't one of resentment for costing him a parent, but one of anguish that Sam blamed himself for it. Sam's look told her had he been given the choice, he would have chosen Dean over his father anyway and was grateful to their father for his sacrifice. They both eventually looked back at her and she slowly nodded and sat back down on the park bench next to Dean.

"You mentioned that others had died trying to kill your demon," Dean said, remembering his limited conversation with her on the subject back in Indiana.

"Yeah," she answered with a sigh, deciding to come clean. "I was about eight and these hunters showed up with a plan. When it all went down, Red-Eyes killed one of them."

"Hunters? What were their names?"

"I don't know."

"What does he look like?"

"The hunter? I hardly remember that either, I was a little kid. The one who died was scruffy but nice. The other one was kind of scary. I don't know, I mean, they were old dudes."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Red-Eyes, you moron," he joked.

"Oh," she grinned sheepishly. "Well he's dark, black, pretty big, and has a real ugly gnarled face and glowing red eyes with black pupils. He usually shows up as a shadowy figure, kind of see-through, and he sometimes flickers like a ghost. He has to turn solid before he can touch me, though."

"What does he, uh..." Dean asked gingerly, wary of the potentially uncomfortable subject, "...what does he do to you?"

Alex shrugged, then let out a small snicker when she noticed Dean's extreme discomfort, though it was anything but funny.

"Nothing like that," she assured him. "It depends if he's in solid form or shadow form."

"What do you mean?" This question was from Sam.

"Well, in shadow form, he can do that demon thing where he throws you around with a hand wave." She shot Sam a quick, apologetic look, remembering he could also do 'that demon thing'. "And he does this thing where you feel like your blood is boiling," she shuddered. "It hurts like a son of a bitch but at least there are no scars to explain away afterwards. Then there's the thing where you feel like you're in one of those machines that squish the cars up into little cubes, you know?" Her explanation had become almost casual and she realized with a bit of surprise how comfortable she suddenly was talking about all this to these two. Neither of them were giving her that '_wow, what a freak'_ look.

Dean was working hard to hide his sympathy. He couldn't imagine living his whole life with this thing doing that to him on a regular basis. Nobody should have to live in constant fear like that. He wished they had met Alex years ago; his father would have figured out a way to save her long before her parents had been killed and her and Josh's lives had been completely destroyed.

Sam, on the other hand, was working hard to hide his anger. How had he ever justified getting out of hunting and taking off to Stanford when there were people like Alex living under the relentless shadow of torture like this? It had been his duty to use all the skills his father had given him and whatever other skills he may possess to hunt these things down and kill them. Well, he wouldn't shirk from that duty now. Never again.

"And what about when he's solid?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Alex groaned. "Well, sometimes that's a welcome relief. Still hurts, but broken bones and cracked ribs hurt a lot less. But then again, if he's extra pissed, he'll use things he finds in the room; knifes, tools, sticks. Those days aren't so good. And they usually come with a much longer healing time," she said, matter-of-factly. "And when he's solid, he can hurt other people, too," she added. "That's never good."

"Has Josh ever seen him?" Sam asked, remembering his conversation with her uncle.

Alex shook her head. "Not really. He doesn't usually show up unless I'm alone and Josh can't see him in shadow-mode for some reason. I think he saw him solid on the day…" she hesitated before continuing, "…on the day my parents died, but he doesn't remember that whole week anyway. Took a pretty nasty knock to the noggin and he was in a coma for eleven days."

"Okay, I think it's safe to say it's not a crossroads demon, despite the red eyes. What have you tried already that didn't work?" Dean asked.

Alex counted off her fingers as she listed the ways she had tried to kill Red-Eyes over the years. "Salt, holy water, silver, Devil's Traps, Paolo Santo, crucifixes, Chemona berries, Gofer dust, Penarine spheres…"

Alex told them the various theories of the hunters that had previously tried to help. Tamara and Isaac, Grant Hebert, Colby Hutchins, Sierra Duluth. Tamara and Isaac were the only ones who stuck around long enough to take a shot at it but things hadn't gone down well and the last she had seen of the two hunters was Isaac bandaging her sliced wrists and Tamara calling 9-1-1 before she had passed out. Josh had sent them away before she had woken up in the hospital the next day.

She told them everything she could think of that might be relevant. They were right; it couldn't hurt to gather intel. She wouldn't let them try anything unless she was sure it would work, but if they could kill Red-Eyes, she could stop living in fear and Josh could have a home.

"Josh told me he thinks it feeds off your psychic mojo," Sam told her.

She nodded. "Yeah. I think it feeds off pain and it gets more from me because of the psychic link."

"Like Agatha," Dean nodded, remembering the sick enjoyment the demon got from her screaming.

"Agramon," Alex corrected with a chuckle. She turned to Sam with a sudden gasp, her eyes wide with worry. "You better watch it, Fiver. If Red-Eyes comes around while you're here, he may take a liking to you, too. He's one stubborn bastard to shake once he gets a sniff of you."

"Okay, who the Hell is Fiver?" Dean asked. He had heard both she and Josh use the nickname on her brother and had no idea what it meant. "What movie is it from?"

Alex laughed. "It's not a movie, it's a book."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Mr. Coles Notes, you should try reading one without pinups in it one of these days."

Dean let out a hmph of annoyance at the ribbing. "Don't forget who taught you how to read, bitch," he defended.

Sam, still smiling, decided to explain. "It's Watership Down. It's a book about a rabbit who gets death visions. He sees a vision that his whole warren is going to get killed so he and his big brother take off with the few rabbits who believe him. Turns out he was right and the rabbits who stay behind die."

"A rabbit and his big brother, huh?" Dean sneered.

"Yeah, his big brother Hazel. One of the few who believes in him," Sam said pointedly.

Dean didn't miss the implication. That he, too, should believe in Sam and his abilities. Well, that had been a lot easier when it had just been death visions. "Hazel must have a screw loose if he just tags along letting his brother stray farther and farther from…" He cut himself off, realizing he didn't want to hurt Sam again by saying he wasn't normal. That had been said once in the heat of the moment when he was angry and scared and he couldn't take it back, no matter how badly he wanted to. Alex, too, was 'not normal' and he didn't feel like alienating both of them right now.

Too late for Sam; the damage was done. He got that hurt puppy dog look in his eyes for a brief second before announcing curtly that he was going to go back to the room. Bobby should be getting back soon and he wouldn't know where they were if they were all out here. He got up to leave and Dean watched him walk off, wanting to apologize and call him back but hesitating too long until the opportunity had passed.

He looked awkwardly at Alex, hating when outsiders were privy to Winchester internal strife. She just shrugged. "Hazel wasn't a loser," she offered. "And Fiver's visions saved them all."

"Yeah, well, good for Fiver." Dean's mood had turned sour.

Alex wisely decided to change the subject. "So what's your favourite song, Dean? No wait, let me guess, _Thunderstruck_."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Bobby and Pamela arrived fifteen minutes later. Bobby led her to the motel room door and gave it a few loud thumps in greeting.

"Hey Bobby. Pamela," Sam greeted when he answered.

"Hey there Grumpy," Pam smiled back, hand slipping out to brush against his jean-clad ass as Bobby steered her past the young hunter into the room, hiding his eye roll with his ball cap.

Sam grinned with no blush. He had come to expect this behavior from the hot but very forward psychic.

"Where's your brother?" Bobby asked, looking around the empty motel room.

"He's out back with Alex. You know Dean, he can hang around in a motel room all day but the second you tell him to stay in one, he gets itchy. He was going a bit stir crazy."

Bobby turned to Pamela. "Bathrooms on the left, hon. Sam and I are gonna nip out back and get Dean. We'll be right back." Pamela nodded and headed straight towards the bathroom door using her uncanny ability to get around despite her lack of sight.

Sam gave the older hunter a questioning look. Since when does it take two experienced hunters to do what a quick phone call would accomplish? Nevertheless, he nodded and headed for the door, followed closely by Bobby.

Once outside, he turned to the mechanic. "What's up Bobby?"

"Just wanted to have a quick word with you alone," the hunter stated the obvious. "Pam's a little jumpy where angels are concerned. Rightfully so of course," he added with a guilty look. "But could you boys maybe take certain precautions to make sure Dean's angel buddies don't show up while she's here?"

"Not really sure how to do that," Sam admitted, "But we'll see what we can do. I think Cas tries to show up mostly in Dean's dreams but lately…" Sam let the sentence trail off.

Bobby didn't miss a thing. "Your brother not been sleeping much?"

"Not much at all. He had another really bad dream last night; would have been a real doozie if I hadn't woken him up in time."

"Well," the mechanic said softly as they rounded the corner of the motel, "he was a demon's bitch for about fourteen hours yesterday then almost got killed again last night by a really nasty sonofabitch. Not really that surprising, Sam. He's only four months out of the pit, 'member?"

"Yeah, I know," Sam sighed, thinking guiltily how he preferred it when his brother had only been slightly emotionally scarred, on a small enough scale that Dean could mask it and Sam could pretend he didn't see him falling apart. His thoughts were interrupted, however, when eyes locked on to the melee going on in the motel's little park. "Oh boy," he chuckled.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

"So you think Sam will come back out?" Alex asked. "Bobby will call when he gets here."

"Kid's probably getting' his geek on," Dean scoffed. "Glued to his laptop again. He's such a nerd."

Alex laughed at the fond and almost proud way the supposed insult was delivered. "Hey, everybody's got a little bit of inner geek in them," she defended, glad to have resorted to casual, lighthearted conversation.

"Oh yeah? What's yours?"

"Yeah right. I'll admit mine if you admit yours."

"Not an ounce of geek in me," Dean boasted.

"Me neither then," she rolled her eyes.

"Alright, alright. I'll tell you something nerdy about me, but you first." Dean had no intention of revealing any secrets that might be considered less-than-manly.

Alex tilted her head in thought for a moment. "Okay. I love the Carpenters."

Dean snorted in disgust. "Yep, you definitely have some major inner geek going on there."

"What?" Alex shrugged with a slightly embarrassed look. "They're a brother sister band. When I was little, my brother was my hero."

Dean snorted again. "Your brother's still your hero," he accused with no sarcasm in his voice. He felt a slight twinge of regret and sorrow that Sam no longer held him in the same regard.

"Yeah, that's true," Alex admitted. "But now I've got more than one."

He glanced up quickly and when she held his gaze he realized she was indeed referring to him. "Uh, I'm no hero, Lex," he stammered, face turning serious. "Not by a long shot."

"Yeah, you're probably right," she drawled. "Fighting the apocalypse, surviving Hell, taking on demons five or six at a time, not to mention saving my ass. Nope, nothing heroic about that."

Dean looked away towards the kids playing with waterguns by the slide, afraid to even look her in the eye while even thinking about all the UN-heroic things he had done for Alistair. Afraid she would see him for what he really was. Weak. Broken. Empty. Scared. Conflicted. Everything a hero wasn't.

"All of this – everything that's going on," he said quietly, shifting in his seat as he spoke, "this isn't exactly by choice. If I had my way right now, I would probably run as fast as I could away from it all, world be damned," he admitted. "And trust me, there's a lot you don't know. I'm not a hero. Far from it." He managed to throw a quick glance towards her, making an attempt at a smile and pulling the veil back across his face with sarcasm. "I'm just the tag-along big brother rabbit, remember?"

The awkward moment was suddenly interrupted by a sharp, cold sensation in his face. He tensed instantly, hand whipping round to touch the handle of the pistol he had tucked away in the back of his pants while his head spun around to assess the threat. He realized within a second or so that he had simply been hit in the face with a stray shot from one of the kids playing a rowdy game with waterguns. His shoulders quickly relaxed and he grinned as he noticed Alex wiping her face also.

The kid that had hit them was standing frozen still about ten feet away, a look of total fear on his eight year old face. Dean scowled at him, intending to intimidate the kid into getting lost, but Alex laughed.

"Hey, little guy, don't look so scared," she said cheerily to the brat. "No harm done." Dean threw her a reproachful look.

"Oh no, he should be scared," the hunter warned in a slightly threatening voice he reserved for annoying kids.

"Dean!" Alex slapped his shoulder in reprimand before turning back to the kid. "Are you guys playing cops and robbers?" she asked the boy, loud enough so his playmates could hear her also.

"Yeah," the kid answered politely, still looking scared.

"See this guy here?" she tapped Dean on the knee. "He's a big-time robber. You guys should all shoot him quick."

The kids were all gathering around but none moved. Dean smirked. "Nice try," he leaned back on the bench with a cocky grin. He had the intimidation of minors down to an art form.

Alex got up and held out her hand to the nearest kid, who immediately handed her his watergun. She aimed right at Dean and fired, hitting him squarely between the eyes.

Not actually expecting her to do it, Dean was caught off guard. As he spat out the water dripping into his mouth he stood up quickly. "Give me your gun, kid," he demanded of the boy who had fired at them to begin with. The kid obeyed immediately.

"Oh shit," Alex whispered through her grin, realizing she was going to get slaughtered. She fired once again quickly and turned to run, Dean charging after her.

Curiously, that human instinct of siding with the underdog kicked in and all six kids still with guns in their hands squealed and charged after Dean. It seemed there were now nine cops to his one robber. After catching up with Alex and emptying his gun on her, Dean found himself being blasted by six laughing kids, his attempt at intimidation long forgotten. He ran around the park and avoided them with ease, using the playground for cover, allowing them to get just close enough to land the occasional spray within a couple of feet of him and keep their hope alive.

They were taking turns refilling from a bucket of water they had stashed by the swings. One little girl in particular was quick and thought three steps ahead, Dean noticed, impressed. That kid had good instincts. She'd make a good hunter.

He led all the kids to the far side of the park before sprinting back towards the swings to refill his toy gun from the bucket before their shorter legs could carry them back over. He was almost done when he felt a huge blast of water hit him in the back. He jumped up with a roar, turning to face his attacker. He saw Alex standing over thirty feet away holding a Mega-Blaster, a two foot long, kick-ass watergun with a large tank of water on the top.

"Gotcha!" she jeered. He hadn't even noticed her nip around to the Bronco to pull the gun out.

"Oh, you'd better run!" he warned, laughing as he raced towards her. He headed straight into the spray with an outstretched palm as he charged. She turned away to run at the last moment but he caught her around the waist, yanking the big gun out of her grip with one hand and holding her at arm's length with the other while he got his finger positioned on the trigger.

A multitude of delighted squeals arose from behind him as the kids caught up with them and took note of the magnificent new weapon in his hands. He let go of Alex and turned the Mega-Blaster on them, sending them scurrying away shrieking loudly with that perfect blend of fear and fun that occurs so often in childhood.

Robbed of her weapon, Alex decided to kick Plan B into action. Surely the nine of them could take Dean down? The guy was barely sprinkled and the rest of them were soaking wet. It was embarrassing how good he was. She headed over towards the swings and waited until he came running out from behind the slide, followed by eight screaming eight-year-olds. Alex laughed at the sight, not sure who was having more fun, Dean or the kids.

As he got close she bent over and held her head, groaning loudly and closing her eyes. Dean immediately came rushing over, gun lowered and miniature SWAT team behind him forgotten. "Lex, you okay?"

Alex waited until he was standing right next to her and his free hand came to rest on her shoulder. With lightning speed she whipped out the handcuffs she was concealing, slapping one side onto his wrist and the other onto the steel leg of the swing set. She stepped back swiftly and grabbed the blaster from his grip as he was still putting together what had happened.

The kids figured it out as quickly as Dean had, for they all danced around him now, cheering loudly. Dean straightened up in stoic defeat and waited for the onslaught.

"Handcuffs, huh?" he raised his eyebrows at Alex.

"Hey, there are some perks to dating a cop," she winked back, laughing as eight streams of water suddenly hit the hunter in the face. She aimed the blaster and added her own spray to the now-drenched show-off.

"Hey Dean! Alex!"

She turned to see Sam standing with Bobby at the corner of the motel, waving them to come over. "I'll be right back," she told Dean, deciding to leave him there for a few minutes to let the kids finish having their fun. She turned and headed away.

Bobby shook his head at the sight. It appeared one of the best hunters he had ever had the privilege of seeing in action was now handcuffed to the swings and a gaggle of rowdy rugrats was shooting at him with waterguns. "She's almost as crazy as he is," he said of Alex, who was strolling over towards them with a giant toy gun in her hands.

Sam grinned. "I know. They're perfect for each other, no?"

Bobby's eyes widened. "What are you, nuts?" he chastised. "Dean needs a girl who can keep him out of trouble, not one that attracts it like a bitch in heat!"

Sam couldn't reply because Alex came within earshot. "Hey Sam. Hi Bobby. Did you bring that psychic?"

"Yeah, Pamela's here. We should get started on the séance right away, though. She can't stay long."

"What's with the Mega-Blaster?" Sam pointed to the plastic weapon she was carrying.

She laughed. "Josh and I used this once to keep a couple of demons at bay while we got away. It worked pretty well." She held the bright yellow gun up with a grin. "It's got a sixty foot range. Just have to fill this tank with holy water."

Bobby rolled his eyes but grudgingly admitted it was a pretty good idea and he may consider using it in the future... if no other hunter's were present, of course. He was just mumbling something to that effect when Alex suddenly squealed loudly as a bucket of cold water was dumped over her head.

She cleared the water from her face to see Dean standing next to her, the kids' fill-up bucket swinging empty in his hand.

"I thought you said you never screamed," he smirked.

"That was a... an audible expression of surprise, not a scream," she retorted indignantly, running her fingers across her hair to squeeze the excess water out. "And that water's friggin' cold!"

"I can see that," said Dean, glancing downwards with a lewd raise of his eyebrows.

Sam and Bobby averted their eyes politely, both hiding grins by tilting their heads. Alex blushed furiously despite the cold water on her cheeks and quickly folded her arms across her chest.

"How'd you get out anyway?" she attempted to change the subject.

Dean scoffed and held a small object up in his hand. "Paperclip," he boasted.

The four headed back around to the motel room, Sam and Bobby taking the lead while the wet pair sloshed along behind them. Dean raised the Mega-blaster and let out a quick squirt, hitting his brother in the ass.

"Hey!" griped Sam, turning around quickly and shielding his groin with his hands. "What are you, twelve?"

Dean snickered and rotated the gun a few degrees to point at Bobby but the warning scowl on the mechanic's face stopped him dead. He lowered the blaster quickly, erasing the smile from his face. "Sorry," he said sheepishly.

"Disarm the idjit," Bobby ordered Sam, who obligingly did so, snatching the toy gun from Dean's hands. He spun on his heel with a huff and continued towards the motel door, looking very much like he had wet his pants.

Alex and Dean were still stifling giggles when they reached the room.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC...**_

_Just a little bit of fun before things get serious. Next up... Pamela's here and things don't go as planned..._


	13. You Punched Me

**Chapter 13**** - ****You Punched Me**

Pamela was perched on the end of one of the beds as the group crowded back into the room. "Hey Pam," Dean called to her in friendly greeting, subtly giving her the once over out of habit as he did so.

"Hey there yourself," she leered back at him with a smile, giving all appearances of looking right at him through her dark black sunglasses. "You sound wet."

Dean chuckled, not surprised by the almost seductive way she had spoken the words.

Bobby explained the dripping on the motel floor. "Dennis the Menace here got bested in a waterfight by the Little Rascals."

"I see. And her?" Pamela was still smiling as she turned to face Alex who was standing next to Dean, arms still folded across her front over her wet t-shirt.

"Oh, this is Alex," Dean offered. "This is Pamela Barnes," he said to Alex, gesturing towards the brunette. "Best psychic in the country."

"Nice to meet you," Alex offered politely.

"Likewise." The psychic seemed to stare at her for a minute before adding "There's something very different about you."

Alex groaned. "Guess I must be in major superfreak mode 'cause I've been hearing that a lot this week," she griped.

Pamela laughed and stood up, moving a few steps closer to Alex and taking off her shades. Alex tried not to react audibly to the completely white eyes that stared back at her. "Who's calling who a superfreak, hon?" the psychic said good-naturedly.

Bobby clucked with impatience. "Yeah, yeah. Enough with the theatrics. Can we get started or what?"

"Can I change my clothes first?" Alex asked, quickly pulling open her bag on one of the beds and rooting through for something dry to wear. She hauled out jeans and a t-shirt and started towards the bathroom.

"Just holler if you need any help," Dean offered as she passed him, getting satisfaction from the reddening of her cheeks.

"Bobby, I need the black cloth from my bag spread out on the table," Pamela ordered the mechanic, who jumped to get it done.

She stood up and held out her hand for Sam, who was standing nearby. He moved forward quickly to guide her towards the table. Once there, she ordered him to set and light two candles in each corner of the room and eight more in a circle in the middle of the table.

Dean took the opportunity to both avoid getting saddled with a job and to change into a dry t-shirt from his duffel. He was standing shirtless by the bed when Alex emerged from the bathroom. She made her way towards the table to offer her help in setting up.

Pamela lifted her head. "Well," she smirked good-naturedly, "from your reaction, either he looks as good as I always suspected without his shirt on or he's got one Hell of a nasty mole."

Alex blushed again. _What reaction?_ She had made every effort to pretend she hadn't noticed the well-toned elder Winchester over by the bed. _And wasn't the woman blind?_

"A bit of both," she covered. "Only it's not a mole, it's a nasty bruise."

Saying 'a nasty bruise' was a gross understatement. During his time as captive to the demons, Dean had been kicked and tossed around so much that almost his entire left side was purple and discoloured. There were also four red cuts across his chest courtesy of the redhead and two small blackened scars on his lower right side, looking somewhat like a Hollywood vampire bite, from where he had been tasered. His wrists and lower forearms were bandaged from the damage the barbed wire had caused. Yet he still looked amazingly good, Alex thought, surprised that anyone could pull of the 'beat to shit' look so well.

Bobby had just arranged the candles on the table and tossed Alex his lighter. "If you ladies are finished gawkin' at Fabio over there, maybe you could light those," he quipped in his usual faux-grumpy manner.

Alex grinned but did as he suggested, lighting all five candles in turn as Pamela took a seat at the table. Sam lit the ones spread around the room before turning out the lights and taking the seat next to the psychic. Dean took the seat on her other side, Alex next to him, and Bobby closed the drapes and spread a map on the table in front of Pamela before taking the last seat between Alex and Sam.

"I'm gonna need the medallion," Pamela told them as they all stared at her expectantly.

It was still in Sam's pocket. He scrambled to get it out quickly before she had the chance to embarrass him. "Here," he said briskly, putting it in her hands.

"Exactly what are we looking for here?" Dean asked, giving Bobby a reproachful look at forgetting to fill them all in on the details.

Bobby ignored the look. "The book says we need to conduct a very specific ritual in order to get the stone out of the medallion. Without the stone, it'll be useless against angels."

"I tried to pry it out with a screwdriver earlier," Sam admitted. "It wasn't budging."

"That's 'cause it's bound to the medallion with a black magic spell. There's nothin' that'll get it out except reversing the spell. And for that, we need to locate two things. First, another piece of the green stone. Second, the demon that made the damn thing to start with."

"Thanin?" Sam asked doubtfully. "What if he's in Hell?"

"I'll be able to tell you if he is," Pamela offered. "But either way, you're on your own for summoning him." She was running her fingers across the surface of the medallion, studying it closely.

"Summoning him?" Alex asked nervously.

Bobby shrugged. "Let's find out where he is first, shall we?"

"What's the other piece of stone for?" Dean asked.

"The stone in your medallion was supposedly just a small piece of a much larger stone that was found near Eridu some two thousand years ago," Bobby explained.

"Eridu's a place?"

"It was a city in Mesopotamia," Sam informed his brother. "Modern day Tell Abu Shahrain in Iraq."

Dean just rolled his eyes, not questioning how his geek brother always knew such obscure facts about everything.

Bobby continued, ignoring the exchange. "This big stone supposedly had some supernatural power though nobody knew its origin. It was split up and a hundred different things were made out of it. Trinkets, daggers, rings, swords."

"You're telling me there's a hundred more things out there that can do in an angel?" Dean didn't like Castiel's chances if this were the case.

Bobby shook his head. "The stone's power was non-specific. It was the spell that made this medallion do what it does. The things made with this stone may have had any number of different uses. Spirit locators, love spells, necromancy, exorcism tools. Most have been lost or destroyed over the years. Some of these things, like the dagger we're looking for, were made by the good guys and can be used to kill the evil sons-a-bitches. This dagger can supposedly kill a black dog if the blade has been blessed within that lunar cycle."

"If there are hundreds of things made with this stone, why are we going after this dagger in particular?" Sam asked curiously.

"'Cause I know who's got it," Bobby grumbled with obvious distain. "Just don't know where the bastard's holdin' up these days. I know he's somewhere between New Mexico and Arkansas but that's as much as I could find out. He just plum dropped off the face of the Earth." He glanced up guiltily at Dean before explaining further. "I was looking for the dagger thinkin' maybe we could kill Hellhounds with it when Dean's time was up last year but I didn't find it in time."

"Are you boys ready?" Pamela asked. "You know the drill; you need to hold hands."

"How does this work?" Alex asked, surprised at how at ease the three hunters in the room were at dabbling in the supernatural when usually they were hunting it down and killing it.

"Well, sugar," Pamela explained, placing the medallion in the center of the map and taking Sam and Dean's hands in her own, "It's pretty simple. First I'm gonna feel around for the green stone's sister, then I'm gonna open up a little window into the demon world and ask around for Thanin." She shook her head with a laugh. "Sounds easy, huh? Well trust me, if the Winchester boys are involved, it won't be. I swear, they're gonna be the death of me yet."

Neither Winchester smiled at her lighthearted comment. They both felt guilty enough about what the sassy psychic had already gone through because of them and were amazed she still kept helping them.

"Now close your eyes until I get through," she commanded. "You too this time," she added to Dean, who instinctively feigned innocence. "And whatever you do, don't break the circle." She then started to chant in Latin.

Dean fought the extremely strong urge to peek. He didn't like being around spooky shit without the basic defense of sight. He could feel a breeze blowing on the back of his neck that couldn't have been natural and knew instinctively that the candles were flickering. Alex's grip on his right hand tightened and he guessed she was feeling it too. To his comfort, however, Pamela's hand was relaxed and steady. He had to give her credit, the psychic knew her stuff. The incident with Castiel had been unfortunate and there had been no way she could have known what they were up against. At the time, they had all assumed Dean's return ticket from Hell had been the work of demons.

Pamela stopped speaking and for a brief moment there was silence. "Okay," she said simply.

They all opened their eyes instantly to find everything exactly as it had been before the séance.

"Did it work?" Dean asked, sounding skeptical.

"What, you doubt me handsome?" Pamela grinned at him.

"Well, where's the dagger then?" Bobby questioned her.

"You tell me," she said with a smirk, leaning back in her chair. "I'm blind, I can't see the map."

Sam realized first what she was referring to, noticing that the medallion had moved across the map that was spread before her on the table. He picked it up gingerly, putting his finger on the spot that had been directly under the green stone. "A few miles east of Quinlon, Oklahoma."

"That's where your dagger is," Pamela stated flatly. "Ready for round two?"

They agreed, each heartened by how smoothly the first part had gone, and took one another's hands again. Pamela first placed the medallion in her left palm before holding her hand out for Sam, who wrapped his large hand around her closed fist. "I have to be touching something it's touched for this part," she explained, evoking a chuckle from Dean. Last time, that particular rule of the spell had earned him a grope from the psychic.

She began reciting Latin again and within thirty seconds there was what Dean could only describe as an angry hum in the room, though it wasn't an actual out-loud noise. Then that breeze was back only this time it seemed more like a gusting wind. She switched to English at this point and all three men recognized the words.

"Thanin, I envoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle. Thanin, I envoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle." The psychic's voice grew sterner as she repeated the command.

As it had the last time they performed this ritual, the TV set suddenly blared into life, nothing but static on the screen.

"Thanin, I envoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle!"

The table began to shake. Dean gave up on keeping his eyes closed any longer and opened them to find Sam had just done the same. They looked around to see Bobby's eyes were still closed and the mechanic had his usual displeased but determined look on his face. Alex's were squeezed very tightly shut, her whole nose scrunched up in an effort to keep them that way.

Sam gave his brother a worried glance. This same ritual had not ended well the last time Pamela had performed it for them. Dean shrugged and gave his brother a _'too late now' _ look.

"I know you're there, Thanin," Pamela called loudly to an unseen presence. "You may as well show yourself!" A pause. "We mean you no harm. You can see there's no summoning or binding elements here – just a contact circle." She sighed in frustration. "This one's a stubborn bastard," she added in a quieter and slightly annoyed voice directed at the hunters around the table. "He senses psychic energy other than mine and must think we're up to something."

Dean glanced sideways at Alex, wondering if they should drop her out of the circle. He was starting to realize just how inconvenient and troublesome her sixth sense could be. To think when he had first found out about it he had thought it would be an asset for hunting. He reminded himself for the hundredth time how much he disliked the thought of her being alone until Josh got out of prison.

Sam, on the other hand, had felt the hand squeeze Pam had given him at the mention of other psychic powers and guessed she had been referring to him, not Alex. He supposed opening a psychic link to a demon with three psychics in the circle probably hadn't been such a smart idea, especially when two of them were untrained and unfamiliar with this kind of ritual. It hadn't occurred to him at the time but was a moot point because letting Bobby and Dean do this by themselves wasn't an option he would have gone along with anyway.

Pam recited a few more words in Latin. Only she and Bobby were aware these words were meant to strengthen the pull of the circle in an attempt to force the demon into it. Once contact was made, Pamela would be able to locate the demon with a simple locator spell. "Ooh, I think I got him," she smiled at the faces around the table.

Suddenly she stood up, shoving her chair back with force enough to send it crashing to the ground behind her and wrenching her hands free from Sam and Dean's grasps. Sam managed to hang onto the medallion and looked sharply up at Pamela, who was looking back at him. Yes, _looking_ at him. The dark sunglasses had been tossed aside and black eyes were glaring at Sam intently.

Dean reacted first, jumping up from the table and pulling out Ruby's knife from his pants, holding it out in front of him while positioning himself between Pamela and Alex and Bobby.

"Dean!" Bobby shouted, worried that he was about to use the knife on the psychic who was obviously trapped inside her demon-possessed body.

"I know, I know!" Dean snapped, holding his free hand up to assure his old friend he had no intention of hurting Pamela.

"Grab her hands again!" Bobby ordered, reaching again for Alex and Sam's. "We have to keep the circle closed to keep him trapped inside!" _Damn he hated this psychic mumbo!_

Sam and Dean both studied Bobby for a split second before simultaneously deciding they would trust his experience and do as he said. They lunged for the psychic at the same time, each managing to get a hold of a hand as she stood panting, the demon obviously still trying to gain full possession of her body. As soon as they did, however, she screamed loudly and tried roughly to pull free. It was the deep, rumbling, throaty scream of a beast that escaped her lips, not the woman's scream they had both heard the day she had lost her sight. Dean felt Alex take his other hand and looked around to see that they had once again completely closed the circle.

"What now, Bobby?" he shouted to the mechanic, who just shrugged and started to loudly recite an exorcism.

The demon was violently thrashing Pamela's body around, trying desperately to break free from the grasp of the two strong hunters. The table was knocked over and kicked out of the way by Bobby, who never stopped chanting his Latin. It became harder and harder not to let go of Pamela's hands, especially when she started lifting off the motel room's tacky brown carpet and straining in sharp thrusts towards the ceiling.

She suddenly laughed a deep, malevolent laugh and dropped back to the floor. She looked up slowly and peered in turn at each person in the circle, smiling knowingly. "Thank-you," a deep, raspy voice that was not hers spoke through her mouth. "I've been waiting a long time for this."

"Okay, if her head does a three sixty I'm outta here," Dean quipped, still straining to keep her hand in his.

Suddenly Bobby flew backwards through the air, slamming into the wall by the window and falling to a still heap at its base. Alex was knocked off her feet by the force of his hand being ripped from her grasp and Sam jerked backwards also, taking a couple of steps to steady himself.

"Screw this!" he said, realizing his hand was now free and their only option that ended with Pamela still alive was to use his powers. He held his arm out in front of him towards the psychic and started to concentrate.

Dean gave up on the circle thing now that Bobby was on the other side of the room and dropped Alex's hand. A quick glance at her revealed a look of slight horror and fear on her face that seemed directed more at Sam than at the demonic Pamela. He felt a brief wave of protectiveness towards his brother despite the fact that he felt the same way every time he saw Sam do shit like this. He didn't like anyone else seeing anything of Sam but the sensitive, compassionate man he missed so dearly. He turned quickly to see how Sam was doing with his mind-exorcism, but not quickly enough to avoid the knee in the face.

Pamela had managed to get loose from both Dean's and Sam's grasps and was now sailing across the room towards the back wall. As her body flew past Dean, her knee caught him square in the cheekbone, exerting a sharp cry of pain from the surprised hunter. Pamela was pressed to the wall facing them all, arms and legs flattened firmly against it. She stayed like that for a second then started spinning violently around the room, still pressed up against the wall by an invisible force. She knocked the lamp off the bedside table as her legs were roughly dragged over it. Bobby was starting to come round and a loud groan escaped the older hunter.

"Sam, is it working?" Dean asked his brother frantically, hating that he was not only condoning Sam tapping into his demon blood mojo but was practically cheering him on. Alex's face was scrunched up into a pained wince and Dean figured this Thanin must be affecting her mojo.

Pamela stopped moving and came to a stop sideways on the wall near the ceiling above one of the beds. She started laughing again and looked straight down at Dean. "This one's a psychic you fool," it cackled. "Azazel's bugle boy over there can't touch me because I'm not here yet. Foot in both worlds, you see."

Dean didn't see. He had no idea what the demon was talking about. He didn't give a rat's ass about the black magic technicalities; he just wanted the bastard out of his friend. Sam was lowering his hand and shaking his head. "He's right, Dean," his brother said apologetically. "I got nothing. No connection."

The demon screamed suddenly in Pamela's voice and dropped to the bed with a bounce. Dean leapt forward to keep her from careening into the bedside table. "Pamela?" he asked worriedly.

"Yeah, it's me," she answered, again in her own voice. It was shaky, but it certainly seemed to be Pamela. "I sent him back." That was all Dean needed to hear. He placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her as she tried to sit up on the bed. She gripped his hand tightly and looked up at him. Her eyes were all white again but Dean couldn't help but think for a second that she had still been looking at him.

She smiled meekly for a moment then her tone changed somewhat drastically. She pushed his hand aside and tried to stand. Feeling suddenly guilty at the obvious rebuke for what they had dragged her into, Dean stepped back.

"I've had enough of Winchester help for a spell," she said smartly. "Bobby? Alex? One of you two care to help me to the ladies room?"

Bobby was slowly getting to his feet on the far side of the room where Sam had gone over to help him. Alex was standing in the middle of the room where she had been attempting to stay out of the way of all the ruckus. She quickly stepped forward past Dean to guide the psychic to the washroom and took Pamela by the arm to gently pull her up.

As the older of the two women got to her feet, she suddenly gripped Alex forcibly by the arms and spun the blonde to face her.

"Ow!" was all Alex got out in surprise before her head was spinning and a rush like a tidal wave slammed into her mind.

"What the…" was all she heard Dean say before everything went blank.

Sam turned sharply at the tone in his brother's voice and saw Pamela holding onto Alex and shaking her for a second before the blind psychic's knees buckled and she fell to the floor, leaving Alex standing over her.

Alex moved quickly, connecting a punch to Dean's face that sent him sailing over the second bed and sprawling to the floor on the other side. The blonde then spun to face Sam, a satisfied smirk spreading across her face. "Thank-you Sam," was all she said before a huge jet of black, grainy smoke was streaming out of her mouth, whirling violently in a tornado-like vortex towards the motel room ceiling, where it disappeared.

Alex still stood unsteadily over Pamela, a bewildered look now on her face and her arms held out as if to maintain her balance. She looked quickly over at Sam. "What just happened?" she panted.

"You punched me," Dean grumbled testily, picking himself up off the floor and rubbing his jaw, ignoring the girl's shocked and confused look.

"Actually," Bobby said in a shaky but irritated voice, "What just happened is we just broke that bastard out of Hell."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_Sorry, short chapter today – I'm running late. Hope the action made up for it. Thanks to those of you following and reading and reviewing! Next up: Sam and Dean go on a mission alone and Alex... goes dancing?_


	14. Can't Be Too Careful in this Business

**Chapter 14 - A Guy Can't Be Too Careful in this Business**

Pamela let out a small groan as she stirred from where she was lying on the motel room bed. Dean rose quickly from the chair near the door and came over to check on her.

Her eyes opened and her hands moved instinctively to her face, feeling for her sunglasses. Dean picked them up from the bedside table and held them over her, guiding her hands towards them gently.

"Linda Blair, back in the land of the living," he joked softly.

She smiled in return, struggling to sit up once her shades were firmly in place. Dean put his arm around her shoulder to steady her. "You okay?" he asked seriously.

"I will be. Ain't the first time a simple contact's gone whack on me."

"Yeah, about that," Dean sat on the edge of the bed next to her. "I'm really sorry, Pam. You were right, Winchesters are bad news."

Pam looked confused. "When did I say that?"

"That wasn't you?"

The psychic nodded in realization. "No, it wasn't. Not that I don't agree to a certain extent, but that was Thanin. Doin' what I do for a livin', I've taken certain precautions to make sure anything that manages to get inside me can't get out. That's why Thanin tried to get into you when you helped me off the bed but you must have an anti-possession charm or something."

He had the tattoo. Dean nodded, forgetting she couldn't see him.

"That's why he asked for Bobby or Alex," she continued. "He needed to physically touch someone he could get into to get free, and he wasn't goin' anywhere near your brother."

The part about Sam wasn't said with disdain or malice, but there was an underlying tone of warning to her words. When he didn't say anything she elaborated further.

"As you know firsthand, Hell doesn't exist on the same plane as here. Time and space and all that shit work differently there. Being able to come topside through a contact circle, Thanin must be really powerful. But even so, he had no mass. No mass means no smoke. He needed to get into someone besides me to bulk up. Last thing I remember, he slipped into your little squeeze." She turned her head towards the hunter. "She alright?"

"Yeah," Dean assured her. "Lex is fine but Thanin got loose. And she's not my squeeze."

Pam seemed to find that quite amusing and she laughed her perky, lively laugh. "Sure thing, hon. You just can't seem to help yourself, huh?"

"Help myself what?" Dean defended, getting up to grab the psychic a drink of water.

"First time I met you, you were itchin' to give me a ride. Next time you were getting' all puppy-eyed over your fallen angel and now you're swoonin' for your little blonde friend. Face it, Dean Winchester, you're a lost cause when it comes to women."

"I am no…hey, how did you know she was blonde?"

"Never mind." She wrapped her hands around the glass he was offering and paused while she took a long, slow drink. "Don't worry, I won't embarrass you," she smiled. "I can settle for Grumpy's tight little touche this time round."

"Hmph," was all Dean could come up with.

"Where is everybody anyway?"

Glad for the change of subject, Dean filled her in. "Bobby's outside calling around to find the guy with the dagger in Oklahoma. Lex is getting lunch. I don't actually know where Sam is," he admitted. "Said he'd be back."

As if on cue, the motel door suddenly opened and Sam entered.

"Pamela, you're awake," he stated the obvious. "You okay?"

"No broken bones," she assured him. "But feel free to check for yourself."

Sam laughed, glad to see the psychic was being her usual flirtatious self. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag, tossing it to Dean.

"What's this?" his brother asked, turning it over in his hands.

"It's a hex bag. For Alex... from Ruby," Sam explained, ignoring the automatic disapproving look on Dean's face at the mention of the demon's name. "She says it should help hide her mojo thing, at least from a distance and from demons. Up close and from things other than demons, there's not much she can do to help." Sam stressed the word 'help' hoping his brother would at least take notice of Ruby's efforts.

"Where is Lex anyway?" Dean asked, his forehead creasing as worry started to settle in. "Shouldn't she be back by now?"

Sam grinned as he sat down at the table and stretched his long legs out in front of him. "I saw her across the parking lot on her way back from the diner. She stopped to pet a dog."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Freaking Dr. Doolittle," he joked. Sam noticed there was no sarcasm or condescending tone to Dean's words. In fact, they were spoken with obvious affection. He smiled but decided to leave his comment for later.

Bobby actually made it back to the motel room before Alex did. After all, it had been a really nice dog. When she stepped through the door, the bags of lunch were practically snatched from her hands by two six-foot-plus hunters who proceeded to root eagerly through them.

Bobby shook his head and clucked his disapproval. "John never did teach you boys proper manners," he scolded, turning back to Alex. "I shoulda warned you never to keep a Winchester waitin' for his food."

Alex laughed, still eyeing the ravenous pair warily. She took the box containing the club sandwich over to Pamela, who was still sitting on the bed and guided the blind woman's hand around it before sitting down on the other bed with her chicken wrap. They all enjoyed a pleasant lunch free of apocalypse-related conversations before Dean decided it was time to get back to business.

"Okay, Bobby. Lay it on us. How do we get this dagger?"

The mechanic leaned back in his chair, rubbing his full belly with his hands in satisfaction before answering.

"Well, it ain't gonna be easy. A bit of diggin' around the location the medallion gave us points to bad news. Guy who has the dagger is a former hunter, Harold Aulenback, or as he likes to call himself now, Brother Adam."

"What is he, a monk?" Dean asked.

"Not even close. He's the leader of a religious group that call themselves the Brethren of Divination."

"A cult?" Dean didn't like the sound of that. Even cults with supernatural ties had always been a gray area for the Winchesters because the members were usually human and therefore, technically out of their jurisdiction.

"Yep. The worst kind. They all live in the 'Temple of Divination', which is a fancy name for an armed compound just outside of Quinlon. Word is he's lost his hunter's hate-on for demons in recent months. He always had an obsession with religious artifacts and he showed me a dagger once, a gold one with a green stone in the hilt. Called it the Finlaen Dagger. I researched it at the time and it seems to be the genuine article. I hear he's got a demon-proofed safe on the property; my guess is that's where he keeps it stashed."

"You still friendly with him, Bobby?"

"Not even a little bit. He'll walk with a limp for the rest of his days thanks to my Louisville slugger. If he so much as catches wind of me, you'll never get your hands on that dagger."

"Well, Sammy, looks like you and me are going over the fence," Dean grinned at his brother.

"Not so fast, Cochise," the older man warned. "This Temple of his is supposedly better fortified than an American military base in Iraq. Guns, not demons."

"Okay, so we go undercover then, as new recruits."

Bobby shook his head with a snort. "I know you think you're pretty, Dean, but you ain't pretty enough for Aulenback. 'Brother Adam' likes his recruits with…uh," he hesitated and stopped his hands mid-air as they hovered cupped in front of his chest. He looked sheepishly towards Pamela and Alex, "…uh, to be women," he finished meekly, dropping his arms to his sides.

Alex barely noticed the mechanic pulling his foot out of his mouth as she had been too distracted by what he had been saying. "I'll do it," she offered eagerly.

"Not gonna happen," Dean said curtly.

"I can do it," she argued, trying not to be offended at the hunter's insultingly quick dismissal.

"You're not going into a militant, fanatical cult by yourself. End of story." Dean noted Sam and Bobby were staying silent and threw them a traitorous look. _Why were they making him play the bad guy?_

Alex narrowed her eyes slightly at him but relented. She hadn't really expected them to agree but had figured she should give it a try anyway. It was, after all, the most logical solution. Unfortunately, men were never logical. "So what then? You gonna Rambo your way in?" She couldn't hide the annoyance in her voice.

Dean looked thoughtful for a moment, ignoring her snide tone. "We'll never get in as feds," he reasoned out loud. "If we can't join up as followers, what's left?"

"We either break in, which doesn't sound promising if he's got armed patrols, or we get him to invite us in," Sam offered.

"How do we score an invitation?" his brother didn't sound too optimistic.

"Offer him something he wants," Sam shrugged.

"Like what?"

"Well, he needs guns. We could pretend to sell him some."

"Arms dealers?" Dean, Alex, and Bobby all said in unison, all sounding like they disliked that scenario immensely.

"I know what he'll want more than guns," Bobby said, nodding his head in agreement with his own thoughts, hand running through his grizzly beard. Realizing after a moment they were all staring at him expectantly, he continued. "Artifacts. Treasures. Like the medallion and the dagger. Offer him something more valuable than the dagger and he'll roll out the red carpet for you boys to make a trade."

"Bobby, we can't let him know we even have the medallion," said Sam. "It's too important to risk. It's only gonna stay safe if nobody outside of this room ever knows we have it."

Dean moved over to his duffel and rooted through it for a moment, standing back up and holding up the fake medallion they had made with the Indiana Jones replica. "We can sell him this one," he suggested.

Bobby shook his head. "That won't fool Aulenback. If I recall, it's damn near creepy how well he knows his artifacts. besides, he'd figure it out sooner or later and that'd leave an angry cult mouthin' off that we got the real one."

"I might be able to help you," Pamela offered from where she was sitting on the bed. They had all forgotten she was even there as she had been uncharacteristically quiet.

"How's that, hon?" Bobby asked his friend.

She put her hand around the large silver pendant she had on her necklace. "Just so happens this here charm's got a certain value to people who know about such things."

Bobby nodded in realization. It was a seer's pendant, said to bring clarity to induced visions, which were often muddled and cryptic. Calling his flock the _Brethren of Divination_, Bobby was sure something like Pamela's pendant would be of great interest to Aulenback. "Yep, he'd go for that in a jiffy."

The psychic lifted the chain over her head and held the pendant out. Sam took it from her hands and stood next to her as he studied it. "Thanks Pamela," he said with genuine appreciation.

"Well," she grinned cheekily, "I was hoping to get it back. Or you'll owe me and I just might enjoy taking my pound of flesh."

Sam laughed, shaking his head at her persistence. "We already owe you," he answered truthfully.

"What I need now is a ride home. I have appointments to keep. Bobby?"

Bobby jumped up and came to her side, holding his arm out for her to take. He turned to Sam and Dean as he grabbed Pamela's bag and steered her towards the door. "Listen, I'll call you with the details, but we should get this done quick. Thanin's out and it's only a matter of time 'fore he gets sentimental and comes lookin' for his masterpiece." As Pamela gave them each a quick hug goodbye, surprisingly behaving herself as she did so, Bobby stopped and looked at Alex. "You mind if I borrow your wheels again? I should be back by mornin'."

Alex shook her head. "No, go right ahead." As long as Bobby had Josh's car, she would be sticking with the Winchesters so that suited her just fine for now.

As the mechanic stepped outside he turned back to face the brothers with a scowl. "And you boys better have a second room by the time I get back 'cause if you think I'm spoonin' with either of you two clowns, think again."

Chuckling at the older man's gruff facade, Dean turned to Sam as soon as the door clicked shut behind Bobby. "Okay, dude. We should get going."

"How long will it take us to drive there?" Alex asked, grabbing her bag from the floor at the foot of one of the beds. "About two hours?"

Dean spun around and looked at her uncomfortably. "Uhhh…" he stammered.

Alex dropped the bag back to the floor. "No way!" she cried, shaking her head. "Don't even think about saying I can't come."

Dean gave Sam a sharp look but his brother just shrugged, deciding this was another of those fights where he didn't need to have his brother's back. Dean shot a disgruntled scowl back at him before turning back to Alex.

"It's a violent, armed, fanatical cult that likes pretty girls," he spelled out. "What part of that sounds to you like a safe place for you to be?"

She frowned as she thought of a rebuttal, hands on her hips. "I can stay in the car," she said finally. "I don't have to go in."

"I plan on taking my car in there," he came back with. "In case I need to leave in a hurry."

He could tell her mind was churning in an effort to come up with another rebuttal and decided to cut her off before she could think of one. "Bobby mentioned this guy's been playing friendly with demons. No offense, but it might be hard to sneak up on demons if you're there," he said, pointing to his temple to indicate why. "Besides, your brother would never let you near the place and you know it," he added.

"Well, last time I checked, you weren't my brother!" she snapped, frustrated that she couldn't better his argument.

"Well, as long as I'm supposed to be looking out for you, consider me just that," he said flatly. From the defeated look that crossed her face at his statement, he figured he had finally made his point and turned to get his duffel, satisfied.

Sam, on the other hand, interpreted the hurt look that briefly swept through her guarded expression more accurately. She definitely did not think of Dean as a brother and was wondering right now if that was how he saw her. As a little sister. He felt a pang of sympathy for her. Although Dean could read people fairly well, he seemed to have a blind spot for recognizing genuine affection directed towards him. Whether it be from his father, Sam, Bobby, Jo Harvelle, or in this case, Alex. A casual female acquaintance in a bar wanting to take him home for the night, he could smell a mile away. But someone really caring about him would have to hammer him on the head with a heart-shaped mallet before he could see it. Sam had been doing it himself for three years now, stopping just short of the L-word, and making very little headway.

"So what then? Am I supposed to just sit around here by myself until you get back?" she asked, trying to hide her disappointment with snippiness.

That hadn't occurred to Dean either. Would she really be safer here alone? What if the demons caught up with her here? What if Thanin found her? He had, after all, possessed her less than an hour ago, even if only for a few seconds. He glanced again at his brother for help.

This time Sam decided to step in. "Ruby's in town. She can stay with you until we get back. Just in case."

Alex looked doubtful. "Ruby? She's more likely to kill me than any other demon is." _She didn't need a babysitter._ "Don't worry about it; I'll be fine by myself."

Sam shook his head, pulling out his cell phone to call Ruby. "She'll do it if I tell her to," he said flatly.

"Oh, that reminds me," said Dean, reaching in his pocket to pull out the hex bag Ruby had made for Alex and tossing it over to her. By the time Sam hung up the phone and informed them Ruby was on her way, Dean had barely managed to convince Alex the hex bag was genuine and she wasn't going to break out in warts if she touched it.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

What?" Ruby hissed at Sam, standing with one hand on her hip as she faced him in the motel room. "Why do I have to babysit Goldilocks? Do I look like the nanny to you?"

Dean hid a smirk as he enjoyed his brother's frustration dealing with the argumentative demon. "Hey," he interceded from his position by the door, receiving a warning frown from Sam for his efforts. "That's the position available. You wanna keep working in camp Winchester, you do what we say. Otherwise, don't let the door hit your demon ass on the way out."

If looks could kill, Dean would be roasting in Hell all over again. Sam decided to interrupt and try to keep the peace. Luckily, Alex had gone to try and get a second motel room and wasn't here to further antagonize the demon.

"Look, Ruby, please. We dragged her into this mess; we need to make sure she doesn't get found out by the demons that are after the medallion. As soon as we destroy it, she's outta here. Will you help or not?"

Ruby sighed heavily but dropped her stiff posture at Sam's polite plea. "Fine," she snipped, striding towards the door with a sulky scowl on her face. "I'll stick around until you get back."

As she reached the door, Dean suddenly threw his arm across the doorframe, blocking her exit. He leaned in close and spoke quietly in her ear. "She so much as breaks a fingernail and you'll find yourself on the pointy end of your own knife," he threatened sternly. "Are we clear?"

"Crystal." With that she pushed past him and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

"We're leaving in ten minutes!" Sam yelled after her, hoping she would be back by then.

Alex returned to the room with a set of motel keys for a second room a few minutes later and Dean's phone rang just as the boys were heading out. Instead of one of his programmed classic rock ring tones, however, an orchestral version of Handel's Messiah sailed from his pocket. With a startled look, he snatched his phone, stopping for a second to read the display screen with a frown.

It read _Castiel._

He flipped it open. "What the Hell?" he snapped angrily.

"Uriel's idea," came Castiel's monotone voice from the other end of the line. "He thought you would find it amusing."

"Well tell Mr. Funnypants if he ever calls me with that ringtone when I'm in public, I'll rip his grace out and shove it up his…"

Dean heard a sigh from the other end and felt slightly guilty. This was the first time Castiel had even made an attempt at humour; maybe he shouldn't have shot him down so quickly. "Sorry Cas. What do you want?"

"Please have your brother take the medallion out of the room so we can talk." The line went dead. _Well at least he said please_, Dean thought ruefully before relaying the instructions to his brother who obligingly got up to leave, the medallion still in his pocket.

"Can I stay?" Alex asked eagerly as Sam was heading towards the door. She remembered the sensation of pure goodness and the beautiful glow the angel had around him the first time she'd seen him and was excited about getting to meet him properly.

Dean shrugged. After all, Cas had already seen her and the cat was out of the bag. "He didn't say you had to leave," he admitted.

No sooner had the door closed behind Sam than Cas appeared in the middle of the room, startling the blonde.

Castiel looked briefly at her before turning to Dean. "I was hoping we could speak alone, Dean," he said flatly.

Dean shrugged defiantly. "She already knows everything, Cas." He glanced over at Alex, who was standing beside him staring intently at the angel, trying not to gawk. He wondered briefly what she saw of Cas that he didn't and wondered if she would see the same luminous beauty she had described if she was to look at Uriel. He found himself hoping she never got the chance. "So is this just a social visit?" he ventured in a friendly tone.

Castiel's brow furrowed and his face morphed into the expression of disapproval that Dean was by now finding quite familiar. "No. I told you to keep the medallion safe. Nothing more."

Dean didn't like being scolded. Feeling mischievous, he slipped the fake medallion from his pocket. "You want it safe, Cas," he quipped, "you keep it." With that he tossed it towards the angel, who instinctively reached out to catch the object before his eyes widened and he jumped backwards, pulling his hands back towards his chest with a gasp as he did so.

When the trinket fell to the floor with a thud right where Cas had been standing, Dean burst out in laughter, ignoring Cas's scowl. "Ahh, you shoulda seen your face Cas!" he chortled, aware of how inappropriate his prank had been but still finding it hilarious.

"That is not amusing Dean," Cas warned gravely, no trace of humour in his voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry Cas," Dean said sarcastically, still grinning. "I thought we were trying to be funny today. Trust me, that was very amusing." He frowned for a second before adding nervously, "You do realize that was a fake, right?"

"I can see that," Cas almost huffed. "This is not a game."

That agitated Dean. "Oh, I know this isn't a game, Cas," he snapped. "I've had demons trying to kill me, my family, and my friends every day since you sent me on this friggin' treasure hunt. I know it's not a game."

"Then why do you insist on constantly disregarding your orders?" the angel asked sternly.

The hunter didn't answer because Sam chose that very moment to come back into the room.

"Dude!" Dean warned, gesturing towards Castiel to remind Sam that the medallion in his pocket could hurt or kill the angel. Mid-spat or not, Dean didn't want either of those things to happen.

"Don't worry," Sam scoffed. "It's right outside in the trunk of the Impala. Which is completely demon-proofed and I put it back in its demon-proof box in that hidden compartment Dean made for the colt that is also demon-proofed," he added, raising his hands to Cas in assurance.

Cas sighed loudly in an effort to regain his slightly-lost composure. "Why did you pull Thanin from Hell?" he demanded.

Dean winced. _How did the angels find out so quickly? _"Uh, yeah, about that…"

"You are trying to perform the ritual to strip the medallion of its power to harm angels," Castiel answered for him.

"Well, yeah," Dean admitted sheepishly, hoping for a sign of gratitude. "Just lookin' out for you, dude."

Castiel's expression held no gratitude. "I warned you against this course of action," he said directly to Dean. However, before the hunter could defend his decisions, Cas continued speaking. "You will need another piece of the stone and Thanin's blood to complete the ritual," he informed them. "And the stone can only be removed by demon hands."

"We've got a lead on another piece of the stone," Dean offered. "Gettin' it tonight."

"Thanin's blood?" Sam asked skeptically. "Bobby said we needed Thanin, he didn't mention his blood."

"His sources were likely not very accurate," Cas said flatly.

"Well," Sam shrugged, "now that Thanin's out of Hell, we can get his blood. He'll find a body to park in pretty soon if he hasn't already."

Dean threw a disappointed look at Sam, wishing he hadn't just offered to cut a human host's body to get Thanin's blood in front of an angel. The celestial crew already had enough misgivings about his brother.

Cas gave Sam a hard stare. "And what about the demon to remove the stone?" he asked.

"Lucky for us we got our very own demon," Alex chimed in, encouraged by how relaxed the brothers seemed around the angel. "Right Sam?"

"It must be a full-blooded demon," Castiel said evenly. "Sam will not be able to fulfill the requirements."

"Whoa!" Dean interjected. "She was talking about Ruby. Sam's not a demon, Cas!"

Sam swallowed the hurt at the angel's mistake and felt a stab of doubt pierce through him at the thought of trusting Ruby with such an important task as the destruction of the medallion.

"We know little about the demon Ruby," Cas offered, not apologizing for his comment. "If she is willing to do this, precautions must be taken to ensure she does not have any chance to gain possession of the medallion."

Dean snorted. "Believe me, we don't trust her any more than you do. If she tries anything, trust me, she's dead." To emphasize his point, Dean pulled out Ruby's knife and held it up for Cas to see.

Cas seemed satisfied. Not pleased, but satisfied.

"So, Cas," Dean grinned at the angel, changing the subject. "Lex here thinks you're hot. I think she word she used was 'smokin'."

Alex gasped in horrified embarrassment. "I did not!" she denied, turning bright red. Surely it was some kind of ultimate sin to objectify a real-life angel.

Sam joined in. "Oh yes you did!" he clucked. "Twice!"

The Winchester brothers were going to get her smited on the spot.

Cas, however, looked casually down at himself, no trace of embarrassment of discomfort. "This body is simply a vessel, Alexis," he said to the girl. "What you are able to see behind him is just a hint of the magnificence of my true form."

Dean couldn't help but snort. Firstly at the fact that she didn't berate the angel for calling her by her full name, Alexis, something he was scolded for the first time he tried it. Secondly at how matter-of-fact and un-vain Cas managed to make a comment that quite frankly screamed over-inflated ego and self-praising conceit.

Heartened by his casual and friendly response, Alex asked the first question that popped into her brain. After all, you don't really prepare yourself with a list of questions to ask in case an angel drops in for a chat.

"So what does God look like?" she ventured. "And don't say Morgan Freeman."

"I cannot answer that."

She tried another. "How old are you?"

"Older than man," he said somewhat evasively.

Do angels really live in Heaven?"

"Yes, when we are not needed elsewhere," the angel replied.

"Okay, what about Jesus?" she grilled. "Real or false prophet?"

Cas pursed his lips, obviously not prepared to answer that question either. She moved on to her next query. "Can a person really screw up and just repent all their sins and still get into Heaven?"

"That is not a simple question."

"Which religion is the closest to the real truth?"

Cas sighed and took a step towards her, reaching out his arm and stretching forth his index finger toward her forehead. Dean quickly jumped between them. "Whoa there Cas. Easy does it. She doesn't mean any harm."

Cas took a step back, the beginning of an impatient look settling on his face.

"You can't just go putting people to sleep all willy nilly, dude," Dean chided before turning to Alex. "Lex, he's not here for twenty questions. Trust me, if an angel wants you to know something, they'll tell you. They're real big on the need-to-know thing."

Alex nodded in understanding but hesitated for a second with a contemplating look on her face before she asked him "Can I ask you one more thing?"

Cas gave her a slow nod.

She walked up to the angel and leaned in close to his ear, being very careful not to touch him. "When you go home," she said quietly, "can you tell my parents I'm sorry?"

Both Sam and Dean heard her words but remained silent. Cas's expression softened and he looked kindly at her before answering. "If your parents are indeed in the pastures of my Father, then they have no need of your message."

And in less than the blink of an eye, the angel was gone.

Alex looked from Sam to Dean and back again. "What was that supposed to mean?" she asked in a whisper.

"It means they already know," Sam said softly.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

The Impala purred down Route 207 en route to Quinlon. The tunes were playing a little louder than usual and Dean tapped the drumbeat with his thumbs on the steering wheel as he drove. Sam had been worried his brother would be in a bad mood over Sam's multiple uses of his powers in the past two days, but Dean seemed to be content. Sam was still surreptitiously observing his brother when Dean's brow furrowed in a pensive manner.

"Whacha thinkin'?" Sam ventured, hoping he wouldn't regret asking the question.

Dean raised an eyebrow and looked sideways at him, thoughtful expression still on his face. He reached a hand out and lowered the volume slightly on the car's stereo.

"I was just thinking," he started, "after what happened with Argyle…"

"Agramon," Sam interrupted.

"Whatever," Dean continued, unfazed. "After all that, I think it's a bad idea to send Lex off on her own for six months. I mean, I thought _you_ were a trouble magnet. That chick's the friggin' Pied Piper for demons and shit."

Sam chuckled at the metaphor but couldn't deny Dean's point. "What are you saying, Dean? I don't really think it's a good idea for her to stick around us."

"Hell no!" Dean snorted. "We'd have her killed inside of two weeks. Definitely not with us, but we do know other hunters. She should have somebody around just to look out for her. Someone who knows about all this supernatural crap."

"Like who?"

"That's what I was trying to figure out. I was thinking she could crash with Tamara. Lex really liked her when she and Isaac stayed with her and Josh for a while a couple of years back."

Sam shook his head. "Bobby said she dropped off the grid not long after Isaac died. He hasn't heard from her since."

"Oh," Dean looked disappointed. "Pamela then?"

Sam looked doubtful. "Dude, she's blind. You can't put that kind of trouble on her doorstep. Especially after we dragged her into our mess again this time."

"Hmm. Suppose you're right."

"What about Bobby?" Sam offered.

The car was silent for a few seconds while the brothers stared at each other before simultaneously bursting into hysterical laughter at the absurdity of that notion.

"Yeah, okay. Maybe not," Sam managed, chest still heaving in silent guffaws.

Dean's eyes lit up. "I know!" he exclaimed. "Jo!"

Sam snorted so loudly it turned into a choking cough before he could manage a proper laugh. He glanced over at Dean to see his big brother giving him a questioning look.

"Oh," Sam said incredulously. "You were serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be? They're a lot alike; got a lot in common," he defended, not sure why Sam thought the idea was so funny.

"Yeah," Sam rolled his eyes. "A little _too_ much in common, Dean," he said pointedly.

Dean, realizing what his brother was getting at, threw an arm in the air in a gesture of innocence. "Hey! I've never laid a hand on either of them, dude."

"Doesn't really matter."

"I don't think it's like that, Sam" Dean continued, having no idea how either girl felt about him at this point. He had suspicions Jo had nursed somewhat of a crush on him but hadn't seen her in almost two years and Lex was really hard to read. She made as many casual comments or jokes about Sam's good qualities and attractive features as she did about his.

Sam snorted again. "For a guy who's been with so many women, you sure don't know much about them," he accused.

"Hmph," was Dean's only reply before he returned to staring out the front windshield in silence. A couple of minutes later, his lips curled up in a slow smile and he turned back to Sam.

"Hey, if Lex and Jo were to get into a scrap, who do you think would win?"

Sam smiled to himself at the predictable fact that Dean's train of thought hadn't been able to move past the two blondes. He twitched his nose in amusement as he pondered the question, enjoying the rare jovial moment with his brother.

"Jo can throw a pretty good punch," Dean offered, still waiting for an answer.

"Yeah," Sam agreed thoughtfully, remembering his brother's swollen eye after being on the receiving end of a right hook from young Ms. Harvelle. "But Lex can take a hit," he argued. "She's had a lot of practice, after all. And she didn't back down from Ruby one bit the other day."

Sam shook his head, disappointed at himself for even entertaining this conversation and glanced back over at Dean, who had an ear-to-ear grin on his face and was nodding slowly.

"Dude," Sam chided, "you're totally imagining them throwing down in bikinis and a mud ring, aren't you?"

Dean feigned exaggerated innocence. "Was not!" he defended, still wearing a sly grin before muttering "It was bikinis and _Jello_."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

They drove slowly past the fenced-in compound named the Temple of Divination, both thinking how misleading the name was as their trained hunter's eyes sized up the place's defenses. There was an actual guard tower in the South corner with a well-armed guard manning his post at the top. They could see at least two armed patrolmen walking the high chain-link fenced perimeter around the small cluster of plain, small, box-shaped buildings. The gate was also chain-link and had a manned security hut on the outside and a thick padlocked chain clamping the only entrance or exit very firmly shut.

"Crap, Sammy. David Koresh had nothin' on these guys! This is insane."

Sam nodded his agreement in wary silence, realizing he too had been comparing this place to how he had always imagined the Davidian Compound in Texas that had been the site of the infamous Waco standoff over fifteen years ago.

"This is so not our usual gig," Dean continued to grumble. "I mean, these are people. Screwed up, fanatical, maybe even psychotic, but they're still people. This sucks."

Sam sighed. "Well, let's just get it over with."

Dean agreed and turned the Impala around, driving back the couple of hundred feet and pulling into the dirt driveway right up to the gate. He wound down his window as a guard in camo-pants approached carrying a Galil IMI Assault rifle and a scowl.

"Afternoon," Dean greeted in an annoyingly chipper tone.

"This here's private property," the guard snarled through yellow teeth, placing his finger on the trigger in an obvious attempt to look more threatening.

The Winchesters remained unfazed. They had been threatened by much worse.

"We're looking for Brother Adam," Dean announced. "Got a meeting with him."

The guard stared at Dean for a few seconds, chewing noisily on his tobacco as he contemplated what to do now. "He know yer comin'?"

"Well, he will as soon as you tell him I'm here," Dean replied, unable to hold back his trademark sarcasm.

The guard frowned. "What's yer names?"

"Dean Hetfield and Sam Ulrich." He decided on two of his favourite aliases. "Tell him we got something he'll be very interested in."

The man disappeared inside his hut for a minute or two before coming back out shaking his head. "He ain't never heard of you. You boys best turn around and go on home."

Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Listen," he said with more authority. "You tell him he won't want to miss out on the sweet deal we're offering. Tell him we're hunters and we got some really valuable hunting equipment." He shooed the man towards the hut with his left hand that was resting on the Impala's windowsill. "And tell him we have some news about Harold Aulenback," he added, figuring that if the ex-hunter had managed to disappear off the grid so cleanly that even Bobby hadn't been able to find him until now, then not many people here would know his former name and it may be a secret he'd want to keep quiet. A veiled threat of exposure may win them an invitation inside.

The guard narrowed his eyes but relented and sauntered back into his hut for another conversation on the two-way radio. While he was inside, Sam watched the movement within the compound. Their presence at the gate was obviously known because more men were appearing out of buildings, each carrying an unconcealed weapon of some sort. He didn't see any women or children. "This is by far the stupidest thing we've ever done," he said quietly.

Dean nodded his agreement but chuckled in cocky satisfaction when the guard came back out and headed over to the padlock on the gate with a key in his hand. He pulled open the left side of the gate and came over to Dean's window. "You head straight over to that white building there," he ordered, pointing to a stucco-clad bungalow with only two small windows and a steel door on the front. "Don't go nowhere else or we have the rights to shoot you dead." He turned his head and spat out his chewing tobacco with a loud, phlegmy guttural noise, most likely another attempt to seem more dangerous or imposing.

"Yeah, sure Buddy," Dean nodded with distaste. He knew he wasn't exactly the epitome of refinement but even he found that disgusting. He barely let the guy get his feet out of the way before throwing the Impala in gear and pulling her forward through the gate with a slight spin of her tires.

They pulled up in front of the white building and both stepped quickly out of the Chevy. There were about ten men milling about by this point and a few of them closed in quickly on the Winchesters, turning them roughly to face their car with their hands on its roof while the hunters were patted down. Sam's 9mm was taken from him before the guy searching him stepped back in satisfaction.

Dean, on the other hand, had his usual full arsenal beneath his clothes. The man patting him down was pulling out the fourth knife and the second gun and Dean could tell the men were getting agitated, fingering their own weapons in nervous distrust.

Sam huffed over the car roof at Dean in disapproval. How were they going to explain coming here for an apparent peaceful trade with enough weapons to take on friggin' Iraq?

Dean was spun around roughly and slammed back into his car. Keeping his cool and still holding his hands in the air, the elder Winchester grinned at the men standing around him. "What?" he shrugged. "A guy can't be too careful in this business."

"And what business is that, might I ask?" A man of about fifty appeared from the front door of the white bungalow. He was dressed in white robes that seemed incredibly out of place in the dusty landscape and the immediate hush that fell over the men clearly indicated he was their leader. "Surely you could have nothing a man of my calibre and standing could possibly need."

"Brother Adam, I presume?" Dean greeted him in the friendliest tone he could muster with a grizzled, bearded guy still patting _really fucking high_ up his inner thigh as he spoke.

"You presume correct."

_Correctly_, thought Sam snidely, not fooled by this guy's pretense of a higher education.

Dean answered the leader's question. "We're hunters," he repeated, figuring anyone within earshot not familiar with hunters of the supernatural variety would likely accept game hunting as a viable occupation, or at least an excuse to carry weapons around. "We've come across an item that would surely help with your, uh, divination." Dean knew divination meant foretelling the future, but admittedly knew very little about how it was done. No worries though, Sammy would know. Bobby had explained that Pamela's necklace was one of a kind and an extremely powerful tool for this sort of thing, though the blind psychic refused to dabble in the very dangerous art of divination. He gave the bearded guy pulling his favourite lockpick out of his jeans pocket an indignant shove, glad to be rid of his groping hands. "Can we have a private conversation?" he asked Brother Adam.

Aulenback looked thoughtful for a second before nodding. He raised his hand and gestured to a young, clean-shaven man in the group to follow before turning wordlessly around and heading back through the steel door behind him. Dean noticed a slight limp as he moved and suppressed a grin. _Nice job Bobby_.

Sam had come around the car to stand next to Dean by this time and stepped in after the robed figure. Dean turned to face the grizzled man who had patted him down. "I want all my shit back when I come back out, understand?" he growled, jabbing his finger in the air in the man's direction as he spoke. He then followed Sam inside and the younger man closed the heavy door behind them.

There was only one window in the small and nearly empty room. A wooden desk with a two-way radio and a single chair sat against the far wall and there was one slightly ajar door into a room on the side. Sam peeked through to see another desk and shelves in the second room. The steel door, lack of living furniture, and the stocky guy that had been posted by the front door led Sam to believe this was likely the office, a place that would have limited access and therefore be a likely place for the supposed demon-proof safe to be located. Stealing the dagger would be a cinch if it weren't for the ten armed men outside.

Things were not looking good for Plan A, which was to lift the dagger without anyone being the wiser, thus ensuring the safe return of Pamela's pendant.

"So you're hunters," Brother Adam stated. "What led you to the Brethren of Divination?"

As usual, Dean got right to the point. "Listen, Aulenback, we know who you are and who you were. We also know you've got a certain dagger in your grab-bag that we're interested in. We want to make a trade."

"And how would you know what I have in my possession?" he said stiffly. "And Son, in my place of worship you will call me Brother Adam."

"Fine, _Adam_," Dean sneered, deliberately dropping the 'Brother'. "We're hunters. It's our job to know the whereabouts of shit of this nature."

Aulenback was obviously not used to being disrespected and gave Dean a cold glare. "What is it you think you have?" he said in a snide tone, clearly trying very hard to hide his piqued interest in what the hunters had to offer.

Sam was about to describe Pam's necklace, for they hadn't been stupid enough to keep it on them – it was safely tucked away in the box in the hidden compartment in the larger hidden weapons compartment in the Impala's trunk with the medallion – when the front door opened and a woman entered. She was about forty with long, straight, black hair and olive-coloured skin. She wore an ankle-length skirt and a long-sleeved blouse that didn't even begin to conceal the ample curves hidden beneath them.

Aulenback smiled at her as she sidled up to him and tucked herself under his arm, turning to face the Winchesters.

"This is my wife, Adora," he announced.

Sam nodded to the newcomer politely.

"What, couldn't find an Eve?" Dean quipped, wincing at his bad comedic timing when three glares were all he got for a response. He gestured towards Sam to continue where they had left off, which Sam quickly did, telling them what the hunters could offer for the dagger.

Adora's eyes widened as he spoke and she practically hissed in her excitement. "Can I see it?"

"When we see the dagger," Dean parried.

Adora glared at each of them in turn, her upper lip curling up slightly in what could almost be described as a snarl. She walked briskly over to the young man, who had remained silent, and whispered something in his ear. He nodded and quickly went outside, closing the door after him.

Neither hunter was getting a good vibe now, not that it had been all that amicable beforehand. The impression they were both getting was that the true authority in the room was Adora, not Aulenback, and for some reason that didn't seem to bode well for this going smoothly. They were right.

"So was that a no to seeing the dagger?" Dean asked pleasantly. "We can be on our way if you're not interested." He jerked his thumb towards the door, which opened again as if on cue and several men filed into the small and confined room.

Dean instinctively patted his pants, unsettled that he had no weapons. "I feel naked," he whispered to his brother, who was stepping subtly towards Dean and coming to stand back to back with him in a defensive position as the men spread themselves casually around the perimeter of the room.

With eight men, Adora, and the Winchesters now in the small room, the door was closed, slamming with an ominous bang that made both brothers jump. They were eyeing the men carefully, being sure not to make any sudden moves that could be construed as aggressive. Adora walked boldly up to them and she slipped herself between them, sidling up to Sam and raising a hand to his chin, turning his face to hers and studying him for a few seconds. Sam couldn't help but notice her stunning amber eyes and found himself staring into them as she spoke.

"Nice to finally meet you, Sam Winchester."

The beautiful amber eyes suddenly turned black, completely black. Sam gasped and took a step back, instinctively reaching out his hand to use his powers against her. He glanced past her just in time to see the raised rifle butt behind Dean and heard the sickening crack as it struck the side of his brother's head. He watched Dean's eyes roll white and his body drop to the ground but "Dean!" was all he managed to get out before he felt a sharp pain in the base of his neck. He desperately fought to retain consciousness but the darkness swallowed him a few seconds later, his body slumping to the floor next to his brother's.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

**_TBC..._**

_Next up... it may be a little twisted, but the next chapter was one of my faves to write... Let's just say that doesn't bode well for Sam and Dean._


	15. Not So Cocky Now, Huh?

**Chapter 15**** - ****Not So Cocky Now, Huh?**

Sam woke up first, blinking a few times to allow his eyes to adjust to the dim light. He raised his head slowly, wincing at the painful throbbing reverberating through his skull. He was sitting on what seemed to be a dirt floor in the corner of a bare room with concrete walls. As his head turned to take in his surroundings, his eyes fell on a motionless shape in the opposite corner.

"Dean!"

No response. His brother's still form was also on the floor, propped up against the far wall with his head slumped forward on his chest.

Sam was forcing himself to his feet to get to Dean's side when he felt the weight on his arm. He glanced down to see an iron shackle around his wrist and a long, thick chain welded to its clasp that extended to a steel plate in the concrete wall.

"Damnit!" he swore, yanking it as hard as he could but all he succeeded in doing was nearly breaking his wrist. He grabbed the chain with two hands, bracing his still-unsteady foot against the wall, and pulled. Again, nothing. He tugged and yanked and wrenched at the chain for all he was worth, groaning loudly in frustration, but it didn't budge. He fished around in his pockets for something to pick the lock with but remembered they had been emptied upon the Winchesters' arrival to this place.

He glanced back around at Dean. "Dean?" he called, softly at first then a little louder. "Dean!" His brother didn't move, but closer examination revealed his chest was slowly rising and falling. His wrist, hanging limply at his side, was also shackled and chained to a plate in the opposite wall.

Sam pulled his chain as far out as it would go and stretched his long body out across the room. Even with his six and a half foot armspan, he couldn't quite reach his unconscious brother. He swore out loud, not liking how pale Dean looked. If he could just touch his boot. Any degree of physical contact, no matter how small would make him feel better even though he knew it would do little to help Dean.

The door suddenly flew open and two young men entered followed by Aulenback, who was still wearing his white robes. Sam stood up straight to face them defiantly, trying as best as he could to position himself between them and his brother.

"People know we're here," he warned the cult leader. "They'll come looking for us. You ready to take on a mob of angry hunters, Aulenback?"

Aulenback frowned and nodded to one of the men whom Sam recognized as the young man that had first entered the room in the white house. "Chet, teach this young man a lesson in manners, please."

Unrestrained, Sam probably could have taken on both these men, despite their burliness. Shackled on one arm, however, could prove to be more difficult. He stepped back three paces towards the corner, loosening off the chain so he had room for movement and forcing the men to come to him.

Chet and partner, a dark-haired, bearded man a few years Chet's senior, advanced with smug, eager grins on their faces. Elbows in and fists up, Chet made the first move, throwing a hard punch at Sam's face. Sam ducked it with practiced ease and in one fluid motion, slammed a fist into his attacker's nose. He was rewarded with a pained cry from the young man but didn't have any time to enjoy it as the second man managed to land an underhanded blow into the hunter's gut. Sam took the hit with a small grunt and released a few jabs of his own, knocking the dark-haired man to the ground with his shackled arm nonetheless. Without stopping, Sam was on top of him laying punch after punch. He needed to immobilize this guy quickly before Chet recovered and jumped back in the fight. He glanced up to locate the other man, not wanting to let the prick get the jump on him.

Chet's nose was streaming blood and he had taken a step back from the struggle, breathing heavily. He glanced over towards Dean and when he faced Sam again, he was smiling. The malicious look he was giving Sam made the hunter's heart jump in fear_. No, no, no, leave Dean out of this_, he pleaded silently. Sam swiftly released the man he had pinned, jumping to his feet and turning towards Aulenback, hoping to strike up a conversation to distract the young man now advancing on his big brother.

"Brother Adam…" he said, giving in and using the ex-hunter's self-bestowed moniker, his voice betraying hints of his panic.

But he was too late. Chet was already standing over Dean's slumped form and he pulled his boot back and gave the unconscious hunter a hard kick in the side that actually lifted him off the ground.

"No! You bastard!" Sam cursed, pulling frantically at his shackled arm and lunging at the young man, hitting the end of his range with a painful jerk. The bearded prick had already rolled himself out of Sam's reach.

Chet laid three or four more kicks into Dean's ribcage and gut, laughing gleefully as he did so. The elder Winchester was now lying face down on the dirt floor, his shackled arm twisted under his still body. Sam thought he had heard a groan escape his brother's lips after the second kick but there was nothing but silence now.

"Now are you willing to listen?" Aulenback smirked, a satisfied smile on his face.

Sam slumped his shoulders and gritted his teeth, knowing they had him beaten at this point.

"Yes, sir," he said submissively, still making a subtle, long-distance assessment of Dean. He was fairly certain he could see signs of the resilient hunter breathing so for now, all was not lost. But human or not, Sam was going to kill that sonofabitch Chet.

"Very well," Aulenback continued. "My wife recognized you and your brother here. Apparently you two come with quite a price on your heads. You'll make a far more valuable trade than a mere seer's pendant. It would seem we are quite fortunate to have you as our guests."

"Your wife's a demon," Sam snapped, hoping he hadn't crossed a line again that would earn Dean another round with Chet.

Aulenback laughed. "Tell me something I don't know, Winchester."

Sam was shocked to learn the man knew his wife was possessed and started to wonder if Aulenback was a demon also. He raised his hand and tried aiming his powers at the older man but nothing happened. He was human.

"You were a hunter!" Sam accused, not understanding how anyone could be stupid enough to ally themselves with a demon, to trust their lies. The irony of that thought in light of his relationship with Ruby suddenly struck him but he pushed it aside quickly. That was different.

"And I'll be forever grateful for that," Aulenback answered. "Because if I hadn't been living the life, I never would have learned the art of divination. As contradictory as it may sound, the possibilities are endless when you already know the outcome, son."

"Save it for your sermon. And I'm not your son."

"No, you are not," Aulenback said, sounding almost as if he wouldn't have minded if that had been the case. He waved his hand towards Chet and the other man in the room. "These are my boys, Chet and Warren. No significant destinies on their plates, but loyal boys all the same." He ignored the offended looks on his sons' faces and kept talking.

"My wife would very much like to meet you. I'm almost embarrassed to say she's somewhat of a fan. However, I'm afraid your reputation precedes you where her kind are concerned."

"By her kind you mean demons," Sam pointed out.

"Yes. You have been known to, shall we say, send them on a one-way trip south. I would very much like my Adora to remain here with me so I am forced to take certain precautions." He reached into the folds of his robe and pulled out a small, black case, opening it to reveal a few syringes and an unmarked glass bottle.

Sam took a wary step back. "Whoa, what's that?" he asked apprehensively as Brother Adam filled one of the syringes with the liquid and handed it to Warren.

"It's harmless, I assure you," the older man dismissed. "It'll just prevent you from harming my wife during her visit."

"No way," Sam stiffened his back. They weren't jabbing him with drugs of any sort, not when his brother was injured and needed his help. "I'll behave. I promise won't send your wife back to Hell… today." He reprimanded himself sharply for adding the last word but just hadn't been able to hold it back.

Warren had taken a few steps forward towards Sam but stopped, obviously not wanting to have to try and wrestle the strong hunter to get the injection in. Aulenback turned to his younger son. "Chet," he said simply.

Chet looked over at Dean and took a step in his direction.

"No!" Sam panicked. Dean's breathing was shallow enough; he couldn't afford to let him suffer any more abuse from Chet's boot. "Okay! I'll let you." He looked wild-eyed at Warren, Aulenback, and Chet in turn, who all seemed undecided. "Please," he added in barely more than a whisper. _Damnit, he would be so much better off without Dean here!_

Warren stepped forward and jabbed the needle roughly into Sam's neck, forcing the plunger down hard and stepping back hastily. Sam rubbed the spot the syringe had gone in but didn't feel any effects right away.

Aulenback smiled at him. "Now was that so hard? Just remember your manners in my wife's presence, Sam. It wouldn't be good for your brother if you didn't." They left the room, strolling out in single file.

**SPN** **-** **SPN** **-** **SPN**

"So what do you feel when I'm around?" Alex asked Ruby, who was sitting with her arms folded at the table, staring out the window with a sullen look on her face.

"Annoyed," was the demon's curt reply.

Unfazed, Alex ignored the dig. "I mean what do you sense?"

Ruby sighed and turned to face the blonde, who was sitting cross-legged on one of the beds, playing with the settings on her new phone. "Tingly," she offered.

"Painful? Like a really bad ice cream chill?" That was what she felt when she sensed evil supernatural things.

Ruby shook her head. "No," she admitted. "Not a bad feeling, just a presence of sorts."

On one hand Alex was relieved. At least she didn't project the same vibe demons did. On the other hand, Sam did. Somehow she knew that didn't bode well for Sam.

"Sam told me all demons used to be human. I assume that includes you, so when were you born?"

Ruby rolled her eyes but surprisingly answered the question. "1347."

Alex had no idea if she was telling the truth or not, but at least she was being civil. She had noted that Ruby had dropped some of the open animosity after the incident with Agramon, apparently approving of Alex's decision to separate herself from the medallion in the woods. "How old were you when you died?"

"Younger than you are now."

"How long have you been topside, like, out of Hell?"

The demon was starting to show signs of impatience and she let out a sharp huff before answering. "Off and on. This last time, not that long."

"How did you die, if you don't mind me asking?" Alex asked.

"I do mind."

"Okay, my bad. Answer me this then. If demons are demons because they were in Hell and every last shred of humanity got tortured out of them, then it stands to reason you have no humanity left, right? So why are you helping the guys? And don't say out if the kindness of your heart, 'cause I'm pretty sure being a demon means you have no heart."

"I am a demon," Ruby admitted. "I've done my share of demon-ish things. Then I had a change of heart. Besides, I didn't exactly like Hell. The apocalypse is quite literally Hell on Earth. I'd rather that not have that happen."

"What caused your change of heart?" Alex was thinking maybe the six-foot-four, seriously handsome, hazel-eyed, younger Winchester was the answer to that question but apparently the demon had run out of patience and she wasn't going to have her suspicions confirmed.

"That's my business. Are you always this annoying?"

She shrugged and grinned at the brunette. "Most of the time. Are you always this cranky?"

**SPN** **-** **SPN** **-** **SPN**

Another fifteen minutes found Sam feeling lightheaded and slightly dizzy. Still not sure what they had given him, he wondered how much worse it would get. He studied Dean, wishing his brother would just wake up. He had already been out twenty minutes longer than Sam, and Sam guessed he himself must have been out for at least ten. He knew the human body often shut down to give it a chance to heal when faced with a head injury, but over a half hour was serious out-time, even for Dean, whose hard Winchester skull seemed to be able to take more abuse than the average human head.

Sam's vision began to blur and he lowered himself to his knees at the end of his chain, as close to Dean as it would allow him. His thoughts were becoming jumbled and it took a few seconds before he realized the groaning noises he was hearing were coming from his brother.

"Dean?" he slurred.

"S'mmy?"

Dean was lying face-down in the dirt and wasn't aware he was groaning as he slowly regained consciousness. It was his automatic response to his brother's voice that shook away the last of the darkness and pulled him towards lucidity. He opened his eyes and lifted his head to get a visual on Sam and felt a sharp pain in his side as he did so. Pushing himself up he realized these were fresh injuries, not the dull ache he was still feeling from the blows he had sustained as a captive of the demons two nights ago.

He flipped himself over to a sitting position with a grunt and locked eyes with Sam. "Sammy," he repeated, "You okay?"

"I'm fine," came the standard Winchester response, which could more often than not be more accurately translated as '_I'm barely alive but hangin' in there'_.

Sam looked unhurt and, satisfied for the immediate moment, Dean turned his attention to his throbbing ribcage. He pulled his arm up across the source of the fresh pain and was trying in vain to remember the fight where he got them when he noticed the shackle.

"What the Hell?" He looked sharply towards Sam again, this time noticing the matching restraint on his arm also. He staggered to his feet, wrapped his hands around the chain just past the shackle, braced his still-unsteady foot against the wall, and pulled but to no avail. He tugged and yanked and wrenched at the chain with all he was worth, groaning loudly in frustration as he did so. He then started fishing in his pockets for something to pick the lock with.

If Sam's thoughts hadn't been quite so animated and swirly, he would have found it amusing how exactly his brother's actions were mirroring his own when he had first woken up. Instead he watched Dean struggle with the chain in silence.

"It'sh bolthed to the wall," he announced finally, thinking maybe Dean hadn't realized that yet.

"I can see th…what?" Dean spun to face his brother, the fact that the words had been slurred just occurring to him. Sam was still sitting on his knees on the floor, looking for all purposes like he had just lost the sobriety struggle to a quart of Jack Daniels. "Sam, what's wrong?" he questioned, moving as close as he could to his brother, stretching out to the end of his chain. Even though they were still a good seven feet apart, he could see that Sam's eyes were glazed and he was swaying slightly.

"They gave me somfin'" Sam managed, vaguely remembering the syringe being jabbed into his neck.

"Gave you something?" Dean repeated, worriedly. "Like what? Like some kind of drug?"

Before Sam could answer, the door opened and Aulenback entered, followed by his two sons and Adora. Warren walked up to Sam and bent down slightly, pulling the hunter's eyelids up to get a better look at the glazed, hazel eyes behind them.

"Hey," Sam whined, swatting lazily at the hands on his face.

"Yeah, he's out of it," the bearded man announced.

Dean tried to look threatening, sickened by the knowledge that he was helpless if they decided to hurt Sam. He moved as close to them as his chain would allow, facing Aulenback. "What the fuck did you do to my brother?" he demanded angrily.

The younger man that Dean recognized as one from the room in the white house earlier stepped boldly up to Dean and aimed a low, hard punch at the hunter's gut. Dean turned and managed to sidestep it despite his lingering grogginess and returned the favour with almost dizzying speed, landing his punch on an already swollen nose with a satisfying smack.

The young man cried out in pain and turned to Aulenback, who was rolling his eyes, obviously very disappointed at his subordinate's skills, or lack thereof. "I'm gonna get my gun, Dad," the bleeding man snarled. "I'm gonna shoot this prick!"

"Chet!" Adora snapped, holding her arm out in a gesture of authority and annoyance. "That's enough!"

Whatever retort Chet was about to make was held back as everyone turned towards Sam when they heard him chuckling. "Heehee," he laughed good-naturedly. "That's twice we've broken your nose in like, ten minutes."

Adora looked amused and walked up to Sam, stopping barely a foot away. Though he was sitting back on his heels, his tall frame put his face only a few inches below hers as she cupped his cheek. "Sam Winchester," she purred. "The one and only. I'm honoured."

Sam pulled back, a look of confused concentration on his face. "You're a demon," he slurred, lifting his hand unsteadily and holding it palm out towards her. He tried to tap into his power and aim it at the raven-haired demon but his mind was not cooperating. His thoughts were swirling around in his head and he couldn't seem to hold onto them long enough to project any force at her.

Dean's head jerked at Sam's words and he turned to Aulenback sharply. "Your wife's a demon!" he warned.

Aulenback smiled. "Of course she is."

Adora put her hand on Sam's and lowered it to his side. "That won't work, sweetie," she said pleasantly, ignoring any conversation behind her. "The drug we gave you won't let you focus enough to do any damage."

Dean was still staring at Aulenback. "Dude, you let a demon possess your wife?"

"Of course not," the older man scoffed. "We met and got married long after Adora moved in with the pathetic creature that was born to that magnificent body."

"You married a demon?" Dean asked incredulously before adding sarcastically "Is that even legal?"

"Get away from me," Sam was batting at Adora's hand on his face, not sure who she was at this point and trying to remember where he was. "Dean?" His brother would know what was going on if he could just clear his eyes enough to see him.

"Yeah, Sammy, I'm here," he heard Dean say. "Get away from him, bitch." Those last words were said more sternly; Dean must have been talking to someone else.

"Hey! Watch your mouth!" Aulenback warned him. Chet was once again moving threateningly towards Dean, this time followed by the other bearded man.

Dean knew it hadn't been a good idea to antagonize the dysfunctional family in the room with them but his temper was quickly rising to irrational proportions as he realized just how out of it Sam was. He had no idea what drugs they'd pumped into his brother and hoped to God there weren't going to be any dangerous side effects.

"Oh, you want some more?" Dean goaded, cursing himself for reacting to his fear and anger over Sam's condition by being mouthy. That usually just ended up with him getting hurt. This time would surely prove to be no exception.

"Chet, Warren," Aulenback interrupted, shaking his head, no doubt not wanting the embarrassment of watching his sons get bested again by a man in restraints.

"What?" Chet snapped at his father. "Can I go get my gun then?"

"No, I've got a better idea. Go get the picana."

Dean's heart jumped and he swallowed in dread. A picana was a device similar to a cattle prod only with high voltage and low current, intended to maximize pain and minimize the physical marks of injury. He was pretty sure they were illegal but had seen Bobby use one on a young rawhead before. It had been very effective.

He watched Chet practically run out of the room as Aulenback turned back to him. "Nobody insults my wife, son."

"Bring it," Dean snipped, again cursing his own stubborn, runaway mouth as he turned his attention back to Sam and Adora. The woman was asking him questions about Azazel and Sam seemed to be answering quite willingly, though his answers were a bit jumbled.

"So you were six months old to the day?" Adora was pressing.

Sam nodded.

"And it was just a few drops?" she questioned. "That's it?"

"My mom," Sam slurred, "Few drops….he burned her…d'you know Dean carried me out?...gonna kill Lillith…"

"And how did you kill Azazel?"

"Dean. Colt."

"And when did you realize you could exorcise demons, Sam?"

A pained expression fell across Sam's face. "Dean wuz'n Hell." He scrunched his eyes tightly shut. "I'm sorry, Dean," he whispered.

"Alright, that's enough," Dean snapped, the gut-wrenching guilt in Sam's face tearing at his insides. "I'll answer your damn questions. Just leave him alone." He tried to get Adora's attention away from his brother. Under the drug's influence, Sam seemed so young, almost childlike. He was reminded of the Sam he had seen in the while after Jessica had been killed. Since Dean's return from the pit, Sam had been different. That innocence and deep sensitivity was gone. He had become hardened. It was almost as if he didn't need Dean anymore. This brief return of the old Sammy was cranking Dean's protective instincts into overdrive. It physically hurt him to watch Sam reliving the memories of the months he spent alone when Dean had been in Hell.

Dean looked around the room, wondering suddenly why these people would need a large empty room with chains on the walls anyway. "What is this, your interrogation room?" he ventured, attempting distraction.

Chet strode back through the doorway at that moment, picana in hand and triumphant smile on his face.

"Or your torture chamber?" Dean added, eyeing the metal device warily. _Shit._

"This," Aulenback offered, "is what we call our Room of Reflection. Sometimes my followers stray from the path and need some time free from distraction to find their way back." He spoke as if he believed what he was describing was the most normal and morally acceptable thing in the world. "New recruits also need some time to reflect on the sins of their past before they are ready to be reborn into our flock. Young women can be slaves to their own history if not properly guided."

Dean's eyes widened in horror. _The bastard chained women up in here? This guy was so going down. Thank God he hadn't let Alex anywhere near this place!_

Chet was now waving the metal rod in Dean's face. "Not so cocky now, huh?"

Dean kept his exterior cool. "You better watch it, kid. You could poke an eye out with that thing." He pointed to himself with both hands, his shackle clanking as he did so. "I've got a price on my head. That there," he pointed to the torture device, "is what you call a very poor investment decision."

Adora suddenly laughed, turning away from Sam to face his older, more lucid brother. "That's where you're wrong, Dean. You see, _your_ wanted poster says 'dead or alive'. Lillith just wants the hands-on experience for your boy over here. She doesn't give a damn about how you die so long as it's slow."

"Lillith?" Sam slurred.

Adora turned back to the younger, more docile Winchester. "Yes. I'm afraid we've already contacted her. She'll be sending some troops over to pick you two up."

"Good," said Sam, nodding his head. "Then I'll kill her and shtop the apoclypshe."

Adora seemed very amused by Sam's comment. "Oh you won't stop it, Sam," she said. "I've already seen that."

"What do you mean?" Dean demanded.

"Divination, Dean. I've seen what will happen. Lucifer will rise in all his glory and rid this world of angels and other such abominations once and for all."

"Abominations like your husband!" Dean pointed out.

"Why do you think I'm doing this?" she snapped back. "I already know who wins; I'm just aligning myself and my family with the winning team. Currying some favour."

Dean let out a snort and noticed movement in his peripheral. He barely had time to swear under his breath before the picana was rammed into the bare skin at his neck, sending an agonizing wave of shocks through his body. He couldn't help but scream, though it came out in raspy gasps at the end as he fell to his knees. No sooner had he hit the ground than the bearded man was on him, pinning him down as Chet pulled up his shirt and rammed the rod into his badly bruised side. He screamed again, kicking and flailing against the arms restraining him.

Sam was inside his own head, still trying to stop each thought from dissipating every time he managed to form a mental picture of himself killing Lillith. That lady, whoever she was, had said Lillith was coming. He had been waiting for this. This was good news. He would kill Lillith for what she did to Dean. He would kill Lillith because he hated her. He enjoyed hating her. He would enjoy killing her. He was smiling when he heard a scream. It sounded familiar.

_Oh crap, Dean was having another nightmare. He had to wake him up. Poor Dean. Poor, tortured, broken, weak Dean. _

His eyes shot open and he rose to his feet with a jump. "Dean?" he called, moving but feeling a restraint on his arm. He saw the woman, the one who had been talking to him, scurrying away, fear burning in her amber eyes. He yanked angrily at the chain as his brother screamed again, enraged that he couldn't reach him. "Dean!"

"I'm okay, Sam," he heard Dean pant but Sam's blurred vision wouldn't allow him to see that far and his brother remained out of focus.

"You've gotta wake up, Dean!" he pleaded with his brother when another cry of agony rang out.

Dean, still pinned down but enjoying a few-second reprieve while Chet made some adjustments to his toy, gave his brother a confused look. "Shit, Sammy. You're totally out of it," he croaked. He felt a sudden relief that Sam wasn't fully aware of what was going on, that his brother didn't have to watch this because, if the look in Chet's eye was any indication, things were just getting started.

"It's just a bad dream, Sam," he assured his brother. "I'll be fine."

"Aww, ain't that sweet," Chet sneered, ramming the tuned up rod into the tender spot just above Dean's hipbone and cheering out loud as the hunter threw his head back in agony, bucking and heaving as he tried in vain to stifle his screaming.

**SPN** **-** **SPN** **-** **SPN**

_**TBC**__**…**_

_Sorry, I feel mean now, lol. Poor Boys. Next up: a harrowing escape..._


	16. That Boy's Got Some Moves

**Chapter 16**** - ****That Boy's Got Some Moves**

Dean's torture continued but Sam was only aware of the first few screams before the drug thankfully transformed his surroundings into a spiraling mass of incoherent thoughts, noises, and blurred shapes. He sat heavily down on the floor and slumped his head forward, eyes closed and essentially asleep.

Fifteen agonizing minutes later, Dean also mercifully succumbed to unconsciousness, no doubt to Chet's colossal dismay. The hunter had fought it off for as long as he could, listening between bouts of excruciating pain to the argument between Aulenback and his demon wife. Apparently the robed cult leader was a fool for giving Azazel's chosen one too much of the drug to allow her to have a decent conversation with him, a decision he stood by as a necessary precaution to protect her. But Chet's relentless prodding finally proved to be too much for Dean and after a particularly painful jab in the left armpit that had him convinced his heart was going to explode, he simply closed his eyes and let the darkness take him.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

"Okay, I can't take this anymore," Alex announced, throwing down the book she had been reading and getting up, moving over towards the sullen demon that was sitting on one of the chairs with her feet up on another, watching TV. "I'm going stir-crazy. Let's go out. There has to be a decent club around here."

Ruby threw her an annoyed scowl. "I don't do clubs."

"What, demons don't dance?"

"In case you haven't heard, Goldilocks, there's an apocalypse coming. No time to be shakin' your ass at a dance club."

"We've been benched for the night, remember?" Alex argued. "We're sitting this one out. Come on, even the Winchesters let loose at a bar every once in a while." She remembered the last night she and Josh had spent in the brothers' company back in October, when Sam had slammed back a few too many shooters and had almost fallen over on the dance floor. Dean, however, had refused to set foot on that same dance floor and had spent most of the evening playing pool with Josh. "Well, Sam at least does," she laughed at the memory.

Ruby threw her a hateful glare at that comment. Alex picked up on it and decided to run with it. She hated being cooped up with the foul-tempered demon and was feeling somewhat belligerent towards her at the moment.

"Yeah," she continued, deliberately sounding wistful. "Sam's a pretty good dancer. That boy's got some moves," she lied. The tall, buff Winchester was the polar opposite of grace on the dance floor. "Especially the slow songs…"

"I'm the babysitter, we do what I say!" Ruby snapped, her feathers obviously ruffled. "And I say we stay here."

Alex snorted. "Whatever." That was the fifth time the demon had used that very sentence in less than two hours. "Well, I'm going out. You want to keep your eye on me, feel free to tag along."

Ruby turned her head but made no move to get up. "You really think I can't stop you?" she cautioned.

Alex ignored the implied warning. She trusted Sam's judgment. If Sam trusted Ruby, then she was fairly certain the demon wouldn't follow through on any of her veiled threats. Even if it was only to avoid the Winchester wrath she would likely incur if she did. She grabbed her bottle of water from the table and mulled over whether or not to stay put as the brothers had implied she should. Technically, Dean hadn't given her a direct order. She surprised herself by admitting that she would have obeyed it had he done so.

Ruby turned her head back to the TV, pointing the remote at it and turning up the volume. "Sit down would ya," the demon snapped. "You're even more annoying than Dean."

Alex poured a little water on her hand and flicked a few drops at the back of the demon's head. Ruby jumped and spun around when the drops landed, a furious look on her face.

"Oh, sorry," Alex exaggeratedly feigned innocence, "Was that holy water? My bad."

She was beginning to think she had maybe crossed a line and antagonizing a demon hadn't been such a good idea when Ruby's scowl suddenly disappeared and she grabbed her leather jacket from the table. "Fine," the brunette conceded. "If it's the only way to shut you up. Where do you want to go?"

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Dean didn't know how long he'd been out when his eyes shot open in reaction to a cold splash of water on his face. He quickly raised his left arm to protect his head from this new assailant but found it stopped short by the shackle so his right quickly took its place. He heard a squeal and his supposed attacker skittered away from him. Peering out from behind his arm he saw a girl on her knees a few feet away, a cup dripping water in her hand and alarmed expression on her young face.

'Hey, it's okay," he croaked, clearing his throat and wincing as he did so. His entire body ached and throbbed and his throat felt like sandpaper. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Sorry," she smiled warily. "You scared me. I thought you might be dead."

"Hmph," Dean snorted. "So did I." He managed to sit himself up stiffly, turning to check on Sam. His eyes found his brother lying on his side on the hard floor, arm under his head, breathing slowly and evenly. "Sam?"

Receiving no response he turned back to the girl. She looked about fourteen or fifteen and had long, brown hair tied back in a simple ponytail. "Is my brother okay?" he asked her.

She nodded. "Yep. He's asleep." She giggled as she looked doe-eyed over at Sam and Dean had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

"You think he's cute, huh?" he teased, trying to put the girl at ease.

Another giggle. "No," she denied, not in the least bit convincing.

Dean smiled. _What was it about his brother that appealed so much to teenagers and old ladies? Couldn't he attract a chick in her twenties? _Oh well, for now, Sam's appeal to little girls could work in their favour. "They sent you in here to check on us?" he asked gently.

She shook her head, looking much more relaxed but still sitting a few feet out of his reach. "Adora sent Lindsay in to fetch you some water but she was too scared on account of all the screamin' we heard earlier so she sent me instead."

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that," Dean said uncomfortably. "I'm Dean," he introduced himself. "Sleeping Beauty over there is my little brother Sam. What's your name?"

"Bentley."

"Bentley, huh?" Dean gave an approving nod, successfully hiding his less than favourable opinion of the name for a girl.

"Do you have a key, Bentley?" He raised the shackle on his arm.

She shook her head. "I ain't supposed to let you out. Your time of reflection ain't done yet."

"I just want to check on Sammy," Dean coaxed. "Just for a minute. He's been sleeping a very long time and he banged his head earlier. I'm worried."

She shook her head again. "I ain't stupid. Miss Adora'd kill me if I let you go."

"I won't run away, I promise," Dean lied. "I just need to get over to my brother."

She still refused. "I ain't got a key."

"Do you have a bobby pin in your hair?" he pressed. "Or any little piece of metal?"

"Yeah, but that'd be the same as givin' you a key," she laughed. "I said I ain't stupid."

Dean continued to beg and plead but young Bentley refused to cooperate, her fear of Adora's wrath clearly topping any other reason the hunter could come up with.

Movement from Sam's direction caught his eye and, still on his knees, he shuffled to the end of his chain in the direction of his brother. "Sam?"

Sam's head turned towards him and his eyelids fluttered open, his hazel eyes still a bit foggy behind them. "Dean." Sam sat up quickly, too quickly actually, and a severe dizzy spell rewarded him for his efforts. He groaned and held his head with both hands as if to steady the spinning for a second before focusing his squinting eyes on his brother.

"Hey, you okay?" Sam asked, the last clear thing he remembered being Chet kicking the shit out of an unconscious Dean. He had a vague notion of Dean screaming but couldn't quite pinpoint a memory to go with it.

"I'm fine," came the generic response.

Sam noticed a teenage girl sitting on her knees just out of Dean's chain-range. "Uh, who's your friend?"

"I'm Bentley," she beamed at him. Dean snickered.

"Hey Sam, I've been trying to convince Bentley here to lend me a bobby pin but she's a stubborn one," he grinned. "Remember that chick in Garysville or Ganleyville or whatever? The town with the crazy ass Zena-looking poltergeist?"

Sam did remember. A few months after Jessica had died, they had taken on the hunt and had run into a teenage girl who developed a huge crush on Sam and refused to give up some vital information they needed unless Sam asked the questions over a 'lunchdate'. Although perfectly innocent, he had received endless ribbing from Dean over the incident. If Dean's teasing grin was any indication, Sam had to guess Dean was inferring that the younger Winchester would have a better chance at convincing the girl to help out.

He sighed. "Hey Bentley. I'm Sam. It's nice to meet you." He slowly pushed himself up to his feet, swaying unsteadily.

"Oh. You're taller than I thought with you lying down on the floor like that," she smiled up at him as she too rose to her feet. "But I ain't helpin' you escape neither."

He wasn't going to convince this one. "I don't want you to help me escape," he assured her. "That would only get you in trouble." He held out his arm and pointed to the cup in her hands, tossing in the puppy-dog look for good measure. "But I could sure use a drink."

"Oh," she giggled, blushing slightly as she stepped forward with her arm outstretched.

As his fingers curled around the cup, Sam's other hand shot up and grabbed the girl's wrist, yanking her towards him sharply. She let out a surprised cry as the cup crashed to the floor, contents soaking quickly into the dry dirt. Despite his grogginess, Sam easily spun Bentley around and wrapped one arm around her neck from behind and clamping the other over her mouth.

"Sam!" Dean cried disapprovingly, convinced as always that Winchester charm would have done the job eventually.

Sam threw him a scowl demonstrating his offense that Dean thought any harm would come to the girl. _Why hadn't Dean tried this approach already? His brother was going soft._

"I'm gonna take my hand away, Bentley, but I need you to promise that you're not going to scream okay?"

She nodded. She was facing Dean and he could see her eyes were wide and full of fear. _God how he hated having that look directed at him. _He had seen it every day in varying degrees for ten years in Hell as he had attempted to hack and carve and slice his way into numbness. He turned his face away.

_Since when was Sammy the insensitive hardass? Wasn't that supposed to be his role?_

Still swaying from the effects of the drug, Sam slowly moved the hand over her mouth away and reached into her hair, pulling out a bobby pin. He tossed it over to Dean who went to work on his shackle. Thirty seconds later, the hunter was free and he moved quickly over to Sam and got to work on his also.

"What are we gonna do with her?" Dean asked his brother quietly, still avoiding eye contact with their new captive. Sam had moved his restraining arm from her neck but still gripped her wrist tightly. She hadn't uttered a sound.

Sam shrugged but when his shackle sprang open, he spun his hand around to catch it and quickly wrapped it around Bentley's wrist, clamping it closed.

"I'm sorry," Dean said soothingly, wincing at the shocked look on her face. "But if my brother and I don't get out of here, Brother Adam's gonna turn us over to a very bad lady," he justified.

The young brunette still looked scared but she nodded and a wave of guilt crossed her face. "I know'" she said simply. "I heard Adora say a lady called Lillith's coming to get you."

Sam's head jerked up. "Lillith?" he demanded sharply taking a step forward. "Is Lillith coming here?" A vague recollection of hearing that already floated around in his mind but he couldn't quite nail the memory down.

Bentley whimpered and took a small step back from Sam towards Dean, looking to the older hunter for protection. A stab of intense guilt shot through Sam as he realized he had terrified a fifteen-year-old girl, even if it had been necessary. His shoulders slumped and he sighed. "I'm sorry," he explained. "I didn't mean to scare you. But now Adora can't be mad at you because you didn't let us go. We escaped, see?"

She nodded but looked only slightly convinced.

"Do you know where my car is?" Dean asked her gently. "We won't tell anyone you told us."

She nodded, directing her answer solely at Dean. "Miss Adora said nobody was to touch it. She told Warren to take it to the city and leave it parked somewhere so the hunters would find it. I thought that was just silly 'cause everybody knows there ain't no animals to hunt in the city."

Sam and Dean didn't think it was silly. Eventually, word of the car being found would get back into hunting circles and it would seem the Winchester brothers had simply been killed on a hunt in the area, leaving their car unattended. This way, their deaths wouldn't be traced back to Aulenback and no revenge would be taken. Sam snorted to himself. As if any hunters would take the time to avenge them anyway. Bobby was the only one that really trusted or even liked them. He was the only one left that didn't at least partially blame them for the whole Devils Gate fiasco; the only one who didn't think Sam was something to be hunted.

"Did Warren take it already?" Dean looked panicked.

Bentley shook her head. "No. It's parked round back of Brother Adam's office. Brother Adam's expecting those visitors tonight and the menfolk are busy gettin' ready."

"One last question," Sam asked, being careful to keep a comfortable distance from the shackled girl. "Does Brother Adam have a safe?"

She nodded. "In his office. We women ain't allowed in there but I seen it when Chet spilled his pot of coffee and I had to clean it up."

_Just as Sam had suspected_. He hoped Bobby had also been right in his suspicions about the dagger being kept in that safe.

They both apologized to Bentley again and were heading for the door when the girl offered one last piece of helpful information. "There's a man guardin' the door here. Just down the hall," she warned. "He'll shoot you if he sees you."

"Thanks," they both nodded in genuine appreciation for the heads up and moved to the steel door, opening it a crack to get a visual on the guard before slipping out and advancing catlike down the hall.

The lone guard was sitting on a wooden chair in a room at the end of the hallway reading a Busty Asian Beauties magazine that Dean strongly suspected had been lifted from his stash in the Impala's trunk. Sam easily got the drop on the guard and picked him up roughly by the front of his shirt, slamming his fist into the man's face in close proximity to the wall to ensure the back of the man's head bounced off it so he was quickly knocked out cold. He released the man's shirt and let him drop to the ground with an approving nod from Dean, who rolled up the magazine and tucked it under his shirt, receiving a not-so-approving nod from Sam. The two hunters quickly slipped out the door into the yard, darting quickly behind a huge propane tank to avoid being seen by the men moving through the compound.

The building with the 'Room of Reflection' was near the back of the compound, up a slight incline from most of the other buildings. Despite the darkness of the night, they located the white bungalow they had visited when they first arrived, the one with Aulenback's office, down near the front gate but couldn't see whether or not the Impala was parked behind it as Bentley had said.

"Okay, what's our next move?" Dean asked his brother.

"We still need that dagger," Sam said simply. "Let's find the car, rig up the explosives, blow the safe, steal the dagger, and get the Hell out of Dodge."

Dean nodded his approval. "Sounds like a plan." He moved forward quickly, taking the lead and being careful to hug the buildings and stay in shadow.

They made their way down the hill unseen and crept around a residential looking building just behind the white bungalow to find the Impala sitting alone and untouched in the back alleyway. Dean let out a delighted moan of joy and strode quickly forward, running his fingers gently along her doors and over her wheel arch as he made his way to her trunk.

Realizing they didn't have their keys, Sam went straight for the rear passenger door, opening it and feeling under his usual shotgun seat to find the spare set. He smiled when he noticed his brother's brow crease as Dean tapped his pockets and came to the realization himself that he didn't have his keys on him. Sam gave a short, quiet whistle to get Dean's attention and tossed them over.

It would only take them a few minutes to prepare homemade devices that to blow open the safe but a sudden commotion from around the front of the building got their attention. Dean directed Sam to keep working as he crept quietly around the side of the bungalow to check out what was going on.

Crouching in the shadows, he heard men exiting from a few buildings in the area, all carrying guns and looking towards the main gate. Shots rang out from that direction and a few seconds later Dean heard a man's scream that sounded like it came from the guardhouse. Another man came running in from the gate and was stopped by Chet, who had just come out of the bungalow.

"Seth! What's going on?" Chet demanded.

The man was out of breath. "They're here and they're pissed. I think they've killed Ray!"

Chet scowled. "My dad wants to talk terms with them first. Go let them in but be slow about it. We need to stall them until Dad comes over. Don't tell them where the prisoners are yet. Take them to the warehouse instead."

Seth looked terrified.

"Look, my dad's on his way," Chet assured him. "Just do it! Now!"

A few more seconds of hesitation and Seth seemed to regain enough composure to obey Chet's orders. He turned and headed back towards the gate. Chet called over to another man that had just arrived. "Hey, are the women all in the safehouse?"

The man nodded. "Yeah, I think so." The two men then headed away across the open courtyard to a large building that Dean guessed was the warehouse.

Damnit, they were out of time. The demons would be discovering very soon that he and Sam were free. They would be pissed and all Hell was going to break loose. Dean was comforted by the mention that the women were in the safehouse, whatever that was.

_Oh no!_ He realized with a sudden stab of fear that at least one of the women wasn't. In fact, young Bentley was going to be at ground zero when the shit hit the fan.

He knew leaving her there had been a bad idea and cursed himself for having gone along with it. They should have just trusted her not to squeal. He sprinted the fifty feet back to Sam, who was still assembling the homemade explosives from supplies the brothers had found in their Dad's secret storage room.

"Dude, the demons are here," he announced urgently. "I'm going back up the hill to get Bentley out of that room. You go get that dagger."

"What? Dean no!" Sam argued, not liking his brother's chances if the demons were here already.

"I got time," Dean assured him, rooting through the trunk and triumphantly holding up his favourite .45, thankful it had been returned to the Impala in an effort to cover up the cult's involvement in the intended disappearance of the Winchesters. "Aulenback's steering them to the warehouse to haggle a deal before he hands us over. Just get that safe rigged 'cause we gotta blow it as soon as I get back."

Before Sam could argue further, Dean had thrust Ruby's knife into his brother's hands and was galloping up the hill with his own pistol tucked in the back of his jeans. He moved towards the building from which they had just escaped, still managing to stay in shadow even though he was fairly certain nobody would have noticed at this point anyway. Everyone's attention seemed to be focused on the visitors at the gate.

Sam hurriedly finished his preparation in the quiet darkness of the alleyway and moved stealthily around the side of the bungalow towards the front, steel door. The posted sentry from earlier was gone and nobody seemed to be watching the entrance so he strode boldly over, keeping his head down and slipping quickly inside.

Adora was standing in the front room, arms folded as she gazed out the window towards the main gate. She looked up sharply as the hunter entered and gasped her surprise when recognition struck her.

Sam reacted quickly and threw his arm out towards her, ignoring Ruby's knife tucked in his waistband. He was still feeling the effects of the drug but was able to pull some force together and was about to project it at the demon when he was slammed backwards against the wall by an invisible force. He hadn't realized how slow he had been in propelling his power and it seemed she had managed to beat him to it. He looked up to see her glaring at him, hand outstretched towards him.

"I'd kill you right now if you weren't my only means of surviving this fiasco," she snarled at him. Any hints of her earlier admiration seemed to have been erased with the surprise of finding him free and roaming about the compound.

"You won't survive," he warned her, struggling to gain control of his thoughts past the lingering traces of the drug.

She laughed and he felt the pressure pressing him against the wall increase. "Oh, but I've seen it Sam. I will live to see the glorious day when Lucifer is freed."

Sam curled his lip up at her and shook his head in disapproval of her assumption of his ignorance. "I know how it works," he sneered. "Divination. You can only get fragments of images or partial sentences of incoherent words. And even those are only possible outcomes. There's no guarantee the events unfold the way you think they will." He glared at her as he managed to gather enough wits and concentration to block her mojo and step off the wall.

"You'll die tonight," he said coldly as he strode forward, reaching around to the small of his back and pulling out Ruby's knife as he did so. Her eyes wide with fear, she splayed her hand jerkily at him a few times in panic before he reached her and plunged the knife into her heart right up to its hilt.

He watched the lights sparkle and dance beneath her olive skin as she died, her body slumping in his arms as the lives, demonic and otherwise, left it. He retracted the knife and let her drop to the floor with a thud, wiping its blade on his shirt. He thought to himself that there was something to be said for Dean's preferred method of disposing of a demon. The knife actually killed the fiend where as his powers could only exorcise it, send it back to Hell until it managed to crawl its way back out. There was a certain satisfaction to be had in ending it.

There was nobody else in the bungalow and Sam went to work setting the explosives around the door of the safe. There were symbols of the supernatural variety etched in its door. Sam recognized some of them as signs of protection from demons and chuckled at the thought of how insulting Adora had probably found those. Symbols or not, however, he was fairly certain the safe couldn't withstand the amount of blast force he was about to give it. It took him a few minutes to set things up but he had every confidence this would work. Now all he had to do was wait for Dean to get back.

Waiting was something Sam wasn't very good at anymore. In fact, in recent months, he had become almost as impatient as his brother had always been. He decided he had a couple of minutes to spare. He could go help Dean out, but a couple of minutes was all he would need to check if Lillith was among the demons that had come to fetch the Winchesters. A chance to kill her? He couldn't pass that up. Surely Dean would be fine. He may have lost much of his old bravado, but his skills as a hunter were all still there and if there was one thing Dean was good at, it was saving people.

Closing both doors behind him, Sam slipped back out into the night and looked around for any sign of the other 'visitors' to the compound. Dean had mentioned Aulenback wanted to discuss a finder's fee at the warehouse before handing the hunters over. Sam's best guess would be that the warehouse was the large, square building across the courtyard from where he was now. He saw no signs of people or demons at its doors and decided to head over there for a closer look.

He was only about a third of the way there when a commotion rose from somewhere up the hill. Jerking his head around, Sam realized the shouts were coming from the building where they had been held captive. _The very building where Dean had gone_.

Cursing out loud he abandoned all efforts of keeping to the shadows and sprinted up the hill, trying to block out all the terrible scenarios of what could be happening to his brother from his mind. He had noticed the stiffness with which Dean had carried himself and knew he was injured, even if the stubborn hunter hadn't wanted to admit it. Maybe he had been overpowered by Aulenback's men. Sam shuddered at the memory of Chet kicking an unconscious, helpless Dean and his heart nearly stopped when he heard the sound of gunfire.

As he neared the top of the small hill, approaching the building from the side, he smelled something burning. He looked up to see smoke rising from the timber roof. He looked wildly around for any signs of his brother, hoping to God Dean had already escaped the building. "Dean!" he cried in worry when he didn't see him, not caring if anyone noticed him at this point.

Glancing around the front to the main door, he noticed three people standing huddled together, seemingly deep in discussion. Sam deduced immediately they were demons because they carried no guns, weren't panicked like the few other men he could see running down the hill, and because one of them was a woman. With the exception of Adora, the women of the cult were treated as wombs and servants, not equals in battle.

He heard more gunfire coming from within the burning building. In his rage and worry, he decided the front door would be the best way inside and was about to charge towards the small group when the side door opened and a small figure came dashing out. He recognized Bentley as she flew by him, eyes wild and completely oblivious to his presence. He reached out and grabbed her arm as she passed, yanking her to a stop.

"Bentley! Bentley!" he shouted sharply at her, pulling her back around the corner to the side of the building and out of view of the demons still standing by the front door. Finally he got her attention and she stopped trying to pull frantically away when the recognition reached her eyes.

"Bentley," he said as calmly as he could under the current urgency of the situation. "Where's my brother? Where's Dean?" He kept glancing towards the side door she had exited from but there was no sign of Dean following her out.

"He came for me," she panted. "And then Chet and Warren came in and they all pulled guns and I thought for sure they was all gonna shoot each other then this other man came in and his eyes were all black and Dean shot him but he didn't die and Chet and Warren started shooting him too and Dean told me to run so I did," she blurted in one long, rushed sentence.

"And where did Dean go?" Sam pressed, taking a step towards the door.

"He followed me and we was hiding from the other strangers in the kitchen and this man with black eyes was gonna find me so Dean, he lit a fire with the stove and burned him and he told me to run again, quick, so I did and then I found you."

Despite the fear in her voice, her story was clear. "Did Dean not follow you out?" Sam asked.

She shook her head. "He was on the other side of the fire. He couldn't get out this way." A look of sudden sorrow and understanding came over her young face as she watched Sam. "The only other door's the front door," she told him, obviously figuring out what his next question was going to be.

Sam nodded and tapped her gratefully on the arm. "Thanks, Bentley. Now you run, okay? You just keep running. You get out of this place and don't ever come back." She nodded and Sam turned to head back towards the front door, determined to get inside and find Dean. Flames were now flicking giant, searing fingerlike tendrils out of the front windows. He took no more than three steps forward when there was a thunderous boom and the wall of the building next to him literally flew outward, giant chunks of concrete ramming into him with enough force to throw him to the ground ten feet away. He felt an invisible wave of heat and brute force rip over him as he landed, barely getting his arms up in time to protect his head.

There was nothing but silence for a few long seconds then everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. He pushed big chunks of concrete and metal off his body in stunned silence and strained to pull himself into a sitting position. He could see Bentley, twenty feet away, sitting on the ground staring at him, her hair flying around her face. Her mouth was moving as if she was yelling something at him but he could hear no sound. He turned his eyes to the building, blinking away the burning sting, but couldn't process what he was seeing as his mind was still catching up with his body.

It was gone. The building was gone. There was still something there, piles of rubble and stone and metal, but it wasn't a building. His analytical mind was working in overdrive as he struggled to comprehend what had happened.

_The fire. The propane tank out back_. It was starting to make sense now._ An explosion. The propane tank had exploded._

_Dean._

_Oh God. Dean had been in the building. The building that was gone. Dean was gone._

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC...**_


	17. Like Hanging Out With Paris Hilton

_Oh God. Dean had been in the building... the building that was gone. Dean was gone._

**Chapter 17**** - L****ike Hanging Out with Paris Hilton**

Sam tried to pull himself to his feet but his legs weren't working. His breath was coming out in deep, ragged gasps laced with a whine of high-pitched terror and he fell back down to his knees with a thud. He tried again, his mind thinking no other thought than to get over to the building to find Dean. The building, of course, was gone, but Dean couldn't be. Not again. This couldn't happen again. It was as if his life over the past four years had consisted of nothing more than finding new ways to lose Dean. Electrocuted trying to kill a rawhead. Shot, run over, stabbed, poisoned, and flattened, to name but a handful of the hundred or so inventive deaths of Dean that Sam had been forced to endure by the Trickster. Then the worst one. Torn to pieces by the savage claws of the invisible Hellhounds as Sam watched, helplessly pinned to the wall a few feet away.

No. Sam had suffered through Dean's death more times than he could take. This was not happening again. Pushing up on a large chunk of concrete that lay beside him and choking in the thick cloud of dust that still hung in the air, he willed his torso to a standing position, taking a few steps forward this time before his knees gave out once more.

His body stubbornly refused to cooperate. Did it not understand the need to find Dean? Because Sam knew without a doubt his body would surely die if he was unable to save his brother from the rubble. The grief he had experienced the last time had been far more than mental anguish. It had been physical pain. More pain than he could ever take again.

He looked again at the pile of rubble before him, the sense of sound slowly creeping back into his existence. His brain had already told him there was no way anybody, not even his childhood hero the great Dean Winchester, could live through that blast and still be alive under all that broken and disintegrated concrete and metal.

He let out a bloodcurdling shriek of frustration and fear, oblivious to the fact that his reaction to this loss of Dean was polar opposite of the last one. Holding Dean in his arms, all shredded and bloody after the Hellhounds had finished with him, Sam had barely made a sound. Sobbing silently, he had numbly followed Bobby's instructions and carried his brother's body to the Impala without speaking a single word. In fact, he may have spoken a grand total of twenty words to Bobby in the week that followed before taking off so he didn't have to speak any more, living for a while in tortured silence and solitude until Ruby showed up to offer him the alternate path of vengeance.

This time was different. This time he wanted to scream. He wanted to kill something, whatever evil thing had done this. And he wanted to go out in a bloody blaze of glory while doing it, ending this unbearable pain. He howled again, this time in the form of his lost brother's name. "DEAN!"

"Dude, stop shouting. I'm right here."

Sam took a moment for the voice to register. It sounded so far away. It came from behind him. It sounded like Dean. Still on his knees, he slowly twisted his body around to see where the sound had come from.

Dean was about twenty feet away, walking quickly towards him with a concerned look on his face.

"Dean?" Sam whispered, disbelieving.

Then Dean reached him and was touching him, grabbing his shoulder and bending down to look in his eyes. "In the flesh. Who were you expecting?"

He was grinning. The bastard was grinning. Yes, it was Dean. It was definitely Dean.

"I…" Sam turned back around to look at the leveled building, a bit confused. _Had he been imagining that part? _Nope. Building still looked like a post-Judgment-Day scene from a Terminator movie.

"Did you think I was in there?" he heard his brother say, more softly this time, as Sam turned back around to face him, still unable to relax his racing mind and speak in a coherent sentence_. Of course I did you jerk!_ Dean always had been slow on the uptake when concern for him was in the picture.

"Hey, I'm fine. I got out a window." Dean's voice was reassuring and full of sympathy and softness of a degree that was seldom heard from a Winchester, especially that particular Winchester. He stayed still for a moment, gripping Sam's shoulders tightly, allowing Sam to pull himself together and supplying him with the physical contact he needed to convince himself Dean was indeed real and alive. Finally, once Sam's breathing had returned to normal, Dean spoke again.

"I'm right here," he repeated his words from earlier, this time commencing a pat-down of Sam's major bones and muscles, feeling for any significant injuries. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Sam started to complain but stopped and let out a sharp cry of pain when Dean tried to yank him up to his feet by his shoulder. "Shit!" Sam breathed through gritted teeth. "I think my shoulder's dislocated." He wasn't surprised he hadn't noticed that earlier.

Dean winced in sympathy. A dislocated shoulder was painful. He'd had a few over the years. "That it?" He moved to Sam's other shoulder and resumed his task of pulling his younger brother to a standing position.

Sam performed his own assessment, patting a few areas and moving a few others around. "Yeah, my ribs hurt but I'll manage." He looked over at Dean who appeared to be completely unscathed. Sam knew this wasn't the case, that the physical injuries he was aware of all lay underneath the elder hunter's shirt. "You?"

"I'm fine. I'll pop your shoulder back in once we get out of here," he promised, "But we gotta get crackin'. They know we're free. Can you make it down to the car?"

Sam nodded and started to follow Dean back down the hill. About halfway down, Bentley caught up with them. She didn't speak a word but just ran up to Dean and started walking next to him, matching her pace with his. He turned towards her with a start.

"Bentley!" he said in thankful surprise. "Thank God you made it out!" He gave the girl a smile and a nod but kept moving. "Stick close, we'll get you out of here."

Sam smiled as he walked along behind them. Dean was such a bleeding heart softie. Really, he always had been, but in recent times, it was becoming more and more apparent. Of course, being a softie wasn't really an advantage for a hunter - Sam realized that now as he looked back on his own younger years. He was a much better hunter today, now that he was better at shelving the emotion when necessary. Except where Dean was concerned. As Dean had pointed out to him on more than one occasion, they were each other's weakness. Sam couldn't agree more.

They reached the Impala without further incident. There were a lot of men running around the compound and shouting and the hunters were fairly certain the demons were still looking for them, but the attention seemed focused on the exploded building and the warehouse.

Dean directed Bentley into the back seat and ordered Sam with his bad shoulder to wait in the car before he darted around to the door of the bungalow to set off the explosives around the safe and hopefully retrieve the dagger from inside.

He was relieved to see the bungalow was unoccupied and made his way quickly to the back room, stepping over Adora's body with a smirk. _Nice job, Sammy_. He made a quick, approving study of Sam's work in strategically placing the homemade devices, which appeared to have been untouched since being set, and was about to trigger them when he heard a noise behind him. Spinning around quickly he froze with his gun aimed high to find Sam standing in the doorway, hands in the air.

"It's me, Dean. It's me," he announced, lowering his arms.

"I thought I told you to stay in the car," Dean groused. He was fairly sure Sam had no idea how bad he looked and it gave him the chills to see his brother this way. He must have been pretty close to the building when it exploded because he was covered in charred blackness and concrete dust from head to foot. His face was smeared with soot and there were wide streaks down both his cheeks where the tears had been streaming. He doubted Sam was aware he had even been crying. He could only imagine what he would have gone through had the shoe been on the other foot and he had thought Sam was in the building when it had exploded. Poor kid. Dean felt for him.

"Well, forgive me if I'm a little wary having you around any more explosions today," Sam quipped, giving Dean his childish grin to loosen the tension. That one always worked.

Dean smiled back. "Okay then. You wanna do the honours?" He tossed Sam his zippo.

Sam lit the fuse using his good arm and they both stepped quickly back into the front room, closing the door and crouching over by the desk. A few seconds later, there was a loud bang and the room shook slightly. The door between the two rooms came loose from its bottom hinge and was left swinging crookedly in the doorframe. The hunters rushed in to find the safe door wide open and debris strewn all over the room. Dean quickly rooted through what was left in the safe and let out a triumphant cry as his hand clasped around the hilt of a twelve inch long gold dagger with a shiny green stone in the handle. He pulled it out and held it up, releasing a small whistle of awe when he saw the size of the emerald.

"Dude, this thing must be worth thousands," he gawked.

"Worth more than that to Cas and his buddies," Sam said, reminding his brother of the dagger's higher purpose. "And it's probably more like tens of thousands."

Dean tucked the impressive weapon inside his jacket and they headed back to the car. Bentley was sitting quietly in the back seat and she threw them both a smile as they got in. "Where we gonna go?" she asked as Dean started up the car with a loud rumble.

"We gotta get out of here first," Dean grimaced, hammering his foot on the accelerator and spinning his baby's tires as he pulled out from the alleyway and charged full speed towards the gate. He had no doubts the demons and members of the Brethren were going to know their whereabouts as soon as the car neared the gate so he figured he might as well do it quickly. He was relieved to see the gate was unlocked and at least partially open, obviously left that way after the aggressive entrance the demons had made. He spared a thankful thought to their fortune, since that meant less damage would befall his baby as he hammered through it.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Ruby pulled her stolen muscle car into a parking spot a couple of blocks from the closest thing the town had to a happening bar and shut off the engine. She shot another annoyed look at Alex beside her before getting out. "I'll give you an hour."

Alex grinned, enjoying the fact that she was getting on the demon's nerves. "Come on, Ruby," she coaxed, deciding not to throw in a nickname this time as the sullen brunette clearly didn't appreciate them. Ruby had been visibly pissed at being called Xena, Mortitia had not gone over well, and taking a dig at Ruby's age by calling her Betty White had earned Alex a book thrown at her head. "There's an impending apocalypse. Surely demons get stressed, too. Let's just get out, listen to some music and get on the dance floor. You really need to loosen up."

Ruby rolled her eyes. "It's like hanging out with Paris Hilton," she grumbled.

The bar turned out to be quite busy for a Thursday night and despite the eighties music, Ruby actually seemed to be gradually relaxing. She sat at the bar drinking beer while Alex passed the time on the dance floor. Twenty minutes in, the demon allowed herself to be dragged up by the blonde and before long the pair would easily have passed for two friends enjoying a girl's night out, minus any giggling trips together to the ladies room.

After an hour, however, Ruby was all business again. "Time to go," she said abruptly, heading for the coat check.

Alex huffed but followed obediently. She felt lucky the demon had agreed to come at all so she couldn't complain that she only got an hour. It had felt good to forget the apocalypse and demons and angels and Josh being in jail and that damn delectable Dean Winchester, even if only for a short while. For the first time since Josh had been arrested, she had been able to really let loose and feel the music, even if it had been some kind of retro eighties night at the bar.

Music had always been her escape and a great source of comfort, second only to her big brother. She had never been very good at keeping friends, especially in the affluent circles she had grown up in where her school classmates had been so incredibly superficial and fitting in had been the only thing that mattered to them. Always keeping herself at arm's length so nobody found out her secret had marked her as a bit strange under the intense scrutiny of Malibu's and later Santa Cruz's teenage elite. Guys had on occasion been willing to overlook her questionable social status, even if only for short periods of time, but Alex had always found having girl friends difficult.

She was humming Michael Jackson's Thriller on their way back to the car when she heard the noise behind her. A low, threatening growl-like sound coupled with a high-pitched hissing. She spun around quickly but even so, Ruby was faster.

A man-like creature stood thirty feet behind them, eyes as black as coal. It was about six feet tall and had a face rather like Odo, the shape-shifter from Deep Space Nine, only with big teeth. Ruby grabbed her arm and started shoving her back in the direction they had been walking. "Run!" the demon snapped. Alex obeyed without thinking, noticing Ruby pulling a large knife out of her jacket as the brunette ran alongside her_. How had she managed to keep that concealed in the bar?_

Despite being a few of inches shorter than Alex and having a much shorter stride, Ruby's demon-amped body kept up easily and she even managed to keep turning her head to track their pursuer. When it became evident it was gaining, Ruby stopped running and spun around to face the creature. Although it managed to dodge her first jab with the knife, it was not so lucky on the second, which sank into its shoulder as it let out a piercing scream.

Alex kept on running, only taking the time to glance around a couple of times to be sure Ruby was winning the fight. Ruby didn't wait to see how badly injured the creature was, she simply yanked her knife out and continued running, catching up with Alex in a few seconds.

As they rounded the corner, they both skidded to a halt not ten feet away from another creature, an exact carbon copy of the first one. Without any verbal communication, both women immediately turned sharply and headed across the road which was, unfortunately, taking them farther from Ruby's stolen car.

Odo Number One had somehow made it across the street and was coming towards them from the direction of the bar, Number Two following their path across the street. They kept running up the quiet streets, finding no refuge in the buildings as it appeared to be a commercial district and everything was closed at this late hour. They eventually ended up in a dead end alley and Alex looked desperately around for a way out, not liking the thought of being penned in.

"What the Hell are those things?" she whispered to Ruby, unsuccessfully trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

"Chinabas," was Ruby's curt reply.

"What do they want?"

"To kill. That's all they do."

"Why are they after us?"

Ruby threw her an undecipherable look. _Was that resentment? Or guilt? Or just the usual annoyance? _"They're probably after me," was all she said, ramming her shoulder into a steel door in an effort to get into the brick building lining one side of the alley.

"You're a demon," Alex pointed out. "I didn't think there was anything that could kill you."

"A false rumour we like to perpetuate. These suckers are one of the very few things that can kill a demon while we're in human meat suits. And they don't just roam around looking for random demons either; they go after specific targets. Someone or something has put a binding spell on them and has sent them after me. I don't exactly have many friends."

"Would you be safe if you black-smoked yourself out of that girl's body?" Alex asked.

Ruby gave her a hateful glare, likely for the implication coma-girl's body wasn't hers, but answered her question. "Yes, but then you wouldn't be."

Before Alex could reply, both creatures rounded the corner into the alley at the same time, advancing on the trapped pair at an almost leisurely pace but with menacing determination. Ruby took an offensive stance with the knife drawn and glanced back at Alex, an indecisive look on her face. Alex thought briefly that the demon would probably leave her, _should_ probably leave her, and she couldn't blame her if she did so. But Ruby surprised her.

"When they reach us, you go to that side," the demon instructed her quietly. "I'll go to this side. When they come after me, you slip by them. I'll hold them off long enough for you to get to the car." She tossed Alex her keys.

"What about you?" Alex breathed. She didn't like the demon much but Sam seemed to trust her and she had helped to save Dean, so she really couldn't be all that bad. She also didn't want Sam to blame her for getting his girlfriend - or 'friend with benefits' or secret crush or whatever they were to each other – killed. After all, it had been on her insistence that they had come out tonight.

Ruby didn't have time to respond as the Chinabas had made their way to within ten feet of the women. "Now!" Ruby barked, darting over to the left side of the alleyway as Alex moved to the right, pausing for the creatures to make their move towards Ruby.

But they didn't move towards Ruby. Instead they both instantly turned towards Alex and circled in around her, completely ignoring the demon behind them.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

As they sailed through the gate with only a small whack to the passenger headlight, Sam was looking backwards. Bentley too was kneeling on the leather seat staring out the back window, small hands curled tightly around the top of the back seat. Sam saw a white robed figure dash out of the warehouse in the distance, followed by two men. All three stood facing the gate, staring at the Impala as it sped out onto the road. Aulenback's mouth was wide open with horror but the men flanking him, although they appeared to be angry, wore their expressions with an eerie and cold stillness. One of them reached out his hand towards Aulenback, whose head snapped around sharply at an unnatural angle and he slumped to the ground, dead.

Bentley gasped, her hands clasping tightly over her mouth. She continued to stare for another moment before spinning around and slumping down low in the seat, her wide eyes meeting Sam's.

"What's going on?" Dean asked urgently. "Anyone following us?"

"Aulenback's dead," Sam informed him, giving the girl in the back seat a sympathetic look. "And no, nobody's following us but they know we're gone."

Dean nodded his approval and forced his foot heavily on the gas pedal, pushing the Impala as fast as he dared go. "Good," he said simply. "On both counts." He was glad Aulenback was dead but he was also glad the demons knew they were gone. This might prevent them from searching the compound further which would potentially have bad repercussions for the innocent residents in hiding.

"Where are we going?" Bentley asked again after a couple of minutes of silence, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"We can drop you off wherever you want," Sam offered gently. "Do you have any family around?"

Bentley shook her head. "Can I stay with you?" she asked hopefully.

"Uh, no," Sam said. "That's not a good idea. It's not safe with us."

She turned towards the elder Winchester. "Dean?"

Sam gave a little snort only his brother could hear and received a warning scowl in reply. Dean could tease Sam all he liked about his teenager appeal but there was going to be no ribbing in the other direction.

"Sorry, Bentley," Dean told her, giving her an apologetic smile in the rear view mirror. "Sam's right. You won't be safe with us. We'll take you to CPS in Woodward and they'll find you a nice family to stay with." He tried to look encouraging. "Much nicer than Brother Adam and Adora."

At first, Sam was startled to hear Dean suggest Child Protection Services as they had been the equivalent of the bogeyman to the Winchester boys growing up. With their father frequently gone and very little money and sometimes food to go around, it had been their biggest fear that they would be found out by some snoopy social worker and split up, sent to live with 'normal' families and possibly never see the each other again. However, he realized that he and Dean really had no other choice at this point. Bentley was still a minor and CPS would surely track down some relative somewhere. If they couldn't find a relative, then a foster home would be better than the cult they had just rescued her from.

Three state Police cruisers flew past them in the other direction with their sirens blaring, not surprising considering the size of the explosion that had gone off less than ten minutes earlier. Dean fidgeted in his seat nervously before sharply turning off the next exit onto one of the secondary highways. "This place will be crawling with cops," he stated the obvious. "Let's get back across the border to Kansas as quickly as we can without being seen, huh?"

"Kansas?" Bentley's eyes lit up. "We're going to Kansas?"

"No, _we're_ going to Kansas," Dean corrected. "_You're_ going as far as Woodward."

Bentley sighed. "I don't think so, Dean," she said, a cold, even tone to her voice. The hair on the back of both hunters' necks prickled but they didn't get their heads turned in the girl's direction before a small but strong fist slammed into Sam's jaw, knocking his head so far forward it hit the dash. Eyes flashing solid black, she launched herself over the seat at Dean next, punching her way past his raised arm and smashing his head repeatedly into the steering wheel. An elbow aimed at Sam in the close quarters of the Impala snapped the younger hunter's head back, this time slamming it into the side window.

Dean was battling to fend off the frenzy of tiny demon-girl punches and keep the Impala on the road at the same time but was, unfortunately, losing both fights. The car veered off onto the dirt shoulder of one side of the road before he managed to crank the wheel around, bringing his baby right across the road where it skidded off the other side, bumping over grass and tree roots before slamming hard into a large rut down the banking.

Bentley was thrown all the way into the front seat between the Winchesters but didn't slow her attack. Sam cried out as his already dislocated shoulder impacted the side door as the car came to a sudden, jolting halt and was still trying to shake the fuzziness away from the head knocks he had received just before the crash. He was getting repeated kicks from the girl's feet and grasped blindly at the Impala's door handle behind him, yanking it and tumbling out the door to the ground as it opened.

Dean was still receiving the brunt of the demon's attack and, despite her small stature, was having great difficulty getting her off him and out of punch range in the car's confined cabspace. He followed Sam's lead and yanked at the door handle behind him, shoving the door open with his back and scrambling out, trying desperately to get his feet under him before she came after him again. She started to follow but stopped just before she was fully in the driver's seat, turning suddenly and hopping nimbly over the seat again into the back, where she clambered out the rear driver's door.

Dean had almost forgotten about the Devil's Trap painted on the inside of the roof of his car over the driver's seat, hidden under the ceiling upholstery. _How in the Hell had the demon known about it? _Agramon had said Lillith had good intel but...wow.

He pulled himself together and braced his hands against the door Bentley was halfway out of, slamming it shut onto the girl with as much force as he could muster. She cried out but kept coming, lunging herself at the hunter with a howl of fury. Dean had tucked the dagger under his driver's seat as he had jumped into the car at the bungalow and had lost his .45 in the struggle to get out the door and away from the demon, leaving him weaponless. He used his size to his advantage, managing to land a few good punches, but demon physiology somehow allowed the fifteen year old's tiny body to possess greater strength than his, and she was soon on top of him, laying hard punches into his face and his already battered body.

Still struggling to get up on the other side of the Impala, Sam could see what was going on through the two open front doors. He pulled Ruby's knife out from the waistband of his jeans and, realizing he wasn't going to make it around the car quickly enough, lay back down on the grass. "Dean!" he called hoarsely. Dean was on his back right by the driver's door and managed to turn his head enough to see Sam tossing the knife to him under the car.

Dean clasped his hand around the hilt and gave a sharp and unexpected buck, knocking Bentley off him and to the side. In one swift motion he rolled over and got on top of her, raising the knife to strike. She gasped when she saw the weapon in his hands and froze, seemingly accepting her fate.

But Dean hesitated. Looking down at the innocent girl's face, the young girl they had dragged into this mess, he just couldn't bring himself to stab her with the knife. She wasn't some nameless stranger that had shown up already possessed. Maybe he could get her into the driver's seat of the Impala in the Devil's Trap and exorcise the demon. He was still frozen when her fist connected with his face, knocking him sideways and allowing her to squirm her small body out from under him. He received another kick to the gut and face and next thing he knew, she had taken the knife from his hand and was thrusting it downward towards his exposed heart.

It stopped. It stopped midair and hovered just inches above his chest as he struggled to regain the wind that had been knocked out of him. He looked up to see Bentley screwing up her face in fury as she tried in vain to force the knife downward. He glanced just past her to see Sam, on his knees in the front seat of the Impala, hanging halfway out the driver's door with his hand outstretched towards her. He looked like he had when facing Agramon only his eyes were even less focused. Dean realized he was stopping the girl from stabbing him with his powers but wasn't pulling the demon out of her body.

Sam was feeling woozy. He must still be feeling the effects of the drug, or possibly of the multiple head blows and the explosion. Whatever the reason, he was able to focus enough power to stop the demon from plunging Ruby's knife into his brother's heart and could hold her in place but he couldn't focus enough to do much else. He couldn't get his mind wrapped around the manifestation of evil he felt within Bentley's body. But what he could do was reach forward and grab the knife from the girl's hands. He flipped it easily about in his trained fingers and thrust it deep into her neck, curling his lip in both anger and in horror at the blood that spurted out.

Dean realized what was going on but "Sam! No!" was all he managed to croak before the warm blood sprayed all over his face and shirt. He felt the girl's small frame slump over his chest as he lay on his back on the cold, hard ground.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC...**_

_Next chap: A culprit is revealed and some brotherly tension..._


	18. Who's Your Hero Now?

**Chapter 18**** - ****Who's Your Hero Now?**

Sam fell back into the Impala's seat, wincing as he dropped Ruby's knife in his lap and moved his hand quickly to clasp his dislocated shoulder. He let out a groan at the sharp pain and closed his eyes for a second before turning his head to get a glimpse of his brother. He could see Bentley's body lying face down in a small crumpled heap on the ground and averted his eyes again quickly, leaning his head back on the Impala's headrest. "Dean?" he called hoarsely. No answer. "Dean, you okay?"

Dean had gasped a few raspy breaths, not daring to speak as he slid his way out from under the dead girl, frantically dragging himself across the muddy grass beneath him. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut to keep out the sight of the blood he knew was all over him from the warm wetness he could feel against the coolness of the night. He lay down on his back, vaguely aware of Sam calling his name but unable to respond yet. He wasn't sure how much time had passed before he opened his eyes to find Sam standing over him, a concerned look on his dirt-smeared face.

"Dean, you okay?" his brother repeated the question.

Sam watched as Dean finally seemed to snap out of it and sit up. He had just been lying there for half a long minute, eyes closed and his arm held up over his eyes. It was strangely out of character, Dean usually being the one to simply react in the situation and deal with any emotional repercussions later. Or at least he used to.

He helped his brother up using his good arm but it wasn't until they were standing and staring down at Bentley's body that Dean finally spoke.

"What are we gonna do with her?" he whispered.

Sam shrugged. "We need to get outta here, Dean. We're in plain view from the road. We don't have time for a salt and burn." He realized with a sudden lurch in his gut that he was going to have to be the one to move the body. "I'll…uh…I'll move her over to the edge of the woods. We'll make an anonymous phone call when we're clear." Dean was already making his way to the front of the car to inspect the damage, carefully avoiding any eye contact with Sam and wordlessly agreeing to his offer. "She won't be out here long," Sam added, not sure if he was trying to reassure himself or Dean.

Moving the girl was difficult with one arm pretty much useless, even if she was only a hundred pounds soaking wet. Sam bit his lip hard enough to draw blood in an effort to stifle a cry of pain when she slumped against his injured shoulder as he carried her to the tree line forty feet away and laid her gently down in the grass. When he made it back to the car, Dean had started the Impala up and was attempting to reverse her out of the deep, muddy rut. He hopped out of the driver's side as Sam approached and jerked a thumb towards the vacated seat.

"You drive, I'll push," he directed simply, positioning himself at the front of the car, shoulder firmly against the front grill.

It only took a couple of minutes of spinning tires and spraying mud before the Impala was back up on the shoulder of the road, a couple of minor dents in her front fender the only evidence of her latest adventure. Sam scooted over to shotgun turf and Dean sank into the driver's seat. They pulled away with a low rumble, both relieved to be getting away from the unpleasant scene.

They rode for half an hour in utter silence. Sam looked over at his brother who had a pale but stony look on his face as he stared stiffly forward at the road.

"It was you or her, you know," he offered quietly, breaking the stillness.

He finally got a few seconds of eye contact from his brother, even if the expression was indecipherable.

"I know," Dean replied, looking forward again. "But…she was just a kid. An innocent kid, Sam. What makes me…?" He let the sentence trail off. How could he make Sam understand that Bentley was so much more deserving of Sam's rescue than him? She had probably never hurt anyone. She had definitely not gleefully tortured countless souls for years on end, relishing in their agonized screams for mercy. One innocent girl was worth a hundred Dean Winchesters any day of the week.

In his own guilt, Sam misinterpreted his brother's self-depreciating comment and took it as more of an accusation. He decided now was not the best time to argue that Dean had in fact done the very same thing for him in the past. Outside the Sunrise apartments with the Colt when rescuing their dad after exorcising Meg. Countless times with Ruby's knife over the past year. Dean had willingly risked Virgin Nancy, the Deputy, and Hendrickson's lives rather than turn Sam over to the demons outside that small-town police station last year. The memory of the knife sinking into Bentley's neck made Sam sick to his stomach but he knew without a doubt that if he had to do it over again, he would make the same choice every single time.

They fell back into silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

Sam was worried about Dean. Did he still have what it takes to do this job? Stopping Lucifer from rising had to be the highest priority. Dean needed to see this fact more clearly. As awful as the truth was, the medallion was more important than an unfortunate fifteen-year-old girl. One life versus billions. Bentley's death weighed heavily on Sam also but he knew without a doubt it had been the only choice. His brother had almost let himself be killed by a demon tonight because he didn't have the stomach to do what needed done. Just one more after-effect of what had changed inside Dean.

During their childhood years, Dean had been larger than life to Sam. An invincible force that always kept him safe and always had time for him. Dean was never scared, he never left Sam, and always made his little brother feel like he was the most important thing in the world. And he somehow managed to be totally cool in the process.

But over time, that Dean had gone. The Dean that Sam now watched driving silently with slumped shoulders as he stared out the front window was a different man altogether. He wasn't sure when it had happened but guessed it had started while Sam was away at college. Of course, the past few years in particular had changed Dean, broken him in ways Sam could only imagine. Sam had witnessed his brother's seemingly endless inner strength and bravery falter, his gung-ho attitude slip away. The harshness of Dean's experiences had removed him from his former 'superhero' status. Their dad going to Hell for Dean, fighting the Yellow-Eyed Demon and trying to keep Sam safe in the process, watching Sam die, selling his own soul, fighting Lillith with a death sentence over his head, and finally, going to Hell himself. It was enough to crush any man. Heck, it was enough to crush ten men.

Dean still fought, still gave Sam everything he had, but there was a tiredness now to the utter devotion that hadn't been there before. And maybe a touch of hopelessness. Despair even. Futility. Like he was just going through the motions.

So now it was Sam's turn to look out for Dean. Their roles had changed but Dean was just too stubborn to see it yet.

Sam was strong and powerful and he knew it. He felt the raw power when he pulled demons and sent them screaming back to the pit. He wasn't afraid of this power, not anymore. In fact, he almost craved it. But Dean, hiding behind false bravado, was terrified of it. He was too scared to go after the source, scared of a showdown with Lillith. Sam, though he felt guilty even thinking it, was finding holding himself back and constantly making the 'safe move' increasingly frustrating. He was growing tired of tiptoeing around Dean's issues, hiding his own strength so as not to frighten his brother. Ruby had made a valid point.

He thought about leaving, taking off with Ruby and just getting this war over with, but he could never abandon Dean, especially now. Not when all Dean had ever done was look out for him. So, as exasperating as it was, he stayed, pretending to be completely dedicated to solving whatever insignificant hunt Dean picked out for them that week. A haunted house that turned out to be a couple of psychotic kids in the basement. A magician killing his competition to get a new lease on life for himself and his friends. Small time gigs. Beneath them at this stage in the game. Beneath _Sam_.

He thought of the medallion, still hidden safely in the Impala's trunk. What they were doing now, he conceded, was anything but insignificant. Dean had needed convincing but he had finally agreed to try and destroy this thing. Now if only his brother could manage to stay alive long enough to finish it and not let himself get killed out of sentiment.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

It didn't take Alex long to realize the Chinabas were not going after Ruby after all. She scrambled to find a weapon, her eyes searching the dark ground of the dirty alley. Unlike her brother and the Winchesters, she preferred not to carry a gun around unless she was expecting a fight of the supernatural variety. _Maybe she should start to_, she thought as her gaze fell upon the only solid thing near her feet and she bent quickly to pick it up. It turned out to be the bottom half of the leg of a mannequin, if the plastic foot in her hand was any indication. _What, no nice piece of rusty pipe? In the movies, alleyways always have convenient pieces of rusty pipe._ She grumbled her annoyance at the uncoolness of the weapon but gripped its ankle tight as she swung hard at the closest Odo.

The leg wasn't any more effective than it was cool. It struck the Chinaba quite hard but the creature barely flinched as it snapped its clawed hand out, grabbed the plastic knee, and yanked it out of Alex's hands. Alex took a couple of wary steps backwards, not sure how she was going to fend these things off when suddenly Ruby appeared, having launched herself at one of their attackers and latching herself on its back, swinging her knife down over its head and stabbing it repeatedly in the chest. Its screams distracted the second one enough that Alex was able to snatch up the discarded plastic leg and strike Number Two in the head a few times.

The head blows were enough to cause the creature to stagger backwards a couple of steps but it recovered quickly and lashed out at Alex. She managed to avoid the first swing but the second sent her sprawling across the alley floor, coming to an abrupt halt up against the pungent metal dumpster. Shaking it off and ignoring the painful throb in her shoulder and tailbone, she made it to her feet to find the first Chinaba had thrown Ruby off its back and was struggling to get to its feet a short distance behind the demon, dark brown blood staining its clothes. Ruby launched herself at the second one but she had lost her knife in the struggle with the first and was quickly overpowered, receiving quite a few nasty gashes on the arm and legs before rolling away.

As soon as the demon dropped her attack, Odo Number Two quickly spun around to find Alex again. Feeling guilty when she heard Ruby screaming out in pain, Alex had scampered over to pick up the knife, which had been lying abandoned a few feet away. She held it poised in front of her now as she faced the healthier of the Chinabas, thinking she could get a few jabs in but fairly certain she wouldn't be able to take it down completely. She was guessing the Chinaba was thinking along the same lines for it didn't seem particularly threatened as it advanced towards her.

She glanced around the alley frantically. The ailing Chinaba was getting to its feet faster than Ruby, though both were still struggling. There were no fire escapes to climb up and no Asian restaurant back alley doors for them to run through, making their escape in a hectic chase through the noisy and cluttered kitchen. A brief thought of _Damn, I watch too many movies! _ran through her head before she decided on a longshot plan involving the dumpsters.

She couldn't see a chain on the metal lid that was propped up sideways so she backed herself slowly into the gap between the two dumpsters and finally, as the Chinaba followed with a grim but determined look on her face, she backed herself into the dark space rank with the smell of urine that was behind the first one, climbing up the forklift lugs as she did so. As her attacker moved into the space between the dumpsters, she released the prop and pushed with all her might to tip the heavy lid over the side onto the Chinaba. Although he raised his arm, the lid still struck him hard and Alex ran past him quickly, stabbing the knife into his exposed lower half as she passed.

She cried out with disgust when she realized the knife had sunk hilt-deep into his groin area but kept moving until she reached Ruby. She quickly got her shoulder under the demon's arm and pushed up, forcing Ruby to her feet to make their escape.

But they were too late. The Chinabas were both back on their feet and once again positioning themselves between the girls and the mouth of the alley.

"Oh shit." Alex articulated.

"Fuck," Ruby agreed sullenly, still hanging on to Alex's shoulder.

Alex turned to Ruby. "I guess this is where you leave," she said, figuring if she was a demon herself, now would be when she was turning herself into a swirl of grainy black smoke and getting the hell out of Dodge.

Ruby never got a chance to answer for suddenly there was Castiel, standing between the girls and the Chinabas. The pair of Odos, both bleeding and limping slightly, stopped dead in their tracks, eyes widened as they stared at the angel, obviously here to protect their intended prey.

"Cas!" Alex cried in a mixture of awe and relief, a huge grin spreading across her face as she stared at the angel before her. He was dressed the same as he had been on the two previous occasions she had met him and, at this distance, only a faint glimmer of the shimmering light that seemed to emanate from him was visible. Even so, at that moment, she was sure he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Well, except maybe for a couple of Winchester boys she knew.

Cas calmly turned to face them, a solemn look on his face. "Go," was all he said before he turned back to the Chinabas, moving slowly to keep himself positioned between the escaping women and their frustrated attackers. As they hobbled towards the open street, Alex turned to see both creatures, apparently having overcome their initial shock at Castiel's arrival, advancing again, this time towards the angel standing composed and ready in the middle of the alley.

As they rounded the corner and lost sight of the angel, Alex turned to Ruby. "Those things can't kill an angel, can they?" she asked worriedly.

Ruby curled her lip in apparent displeasure. "I don't know of anything that can kill an angel," she answered.

Alex sighed in relief. "Good."

Ruby was regaining her strength quickly and was soon limping hurriedly without Alex's help. "You've got the wrong idea about angels, Goldilocks," she warned.

Alex snorted. "What's that supposed to mean? They're angels. What can possibly be wrong about them?"

Ruby shook her head but didn't reply. Two more blocks found them at the demon's stolen car. Alex still had the keys in her pocket and automatically jumped into the driver's seat, barely letting the scowling demon close her door before she peeled away and raced down the street and out of the area.

They were almost back at the motel before Ruby finally spoke. "You know there's a speed limit in Kansas."

Alex ignored the dig at her driving, distracted by something she was mulling over in her head. She decided to run it by Ruby. "So, if those things come after you when someone or something orders them to, who sent them after me?"

Ruby shrugged her shoulders.

"Nobody even knows me," Alex continued thinking out loud. "Certainly nobody who would bother going through the trouble of binding two Chin…Chin-whatevers to have me killed."

"All I know is that they really must have wanted you dead because those things are not easy to control. That's not some novice binding spell crap. That takes serious high-level shit and know-how to get those things on your payroll."

Ruby's comments didn't help. Alex glanced over at the demon. The only person, or thing, she could think of that hated her and may want her dead was sitting in the passenger seat right now. Dean had mentioned that Ruby had been a witch in her previous life. It had been her, after all, that had come up with the cloaking hex bag that Alex had in her pocket right now. Previous witch contacts she and Josh had come across had not been able to do so therefore it stood to reason that Ruby was quite a powerful and knowledgeable witch in comparison. Powerful and knowledgeable enough to summon those things.

Then her gaze drifted to the gashes on the demon girl's legs and arms. No, Ruby could have left and didn't. It couldn't have been her doing.

"Shouldn't those be healed by now?" she asked the demon, noticing the brunette was still shifting painfully in her seat. "I thought you demons healed right away and the wounds only come back when you leave the body."

Ruby winced as she turned to face Alex. "These ones will take a little longer to heal," she explained, somewhat matter-of-factly. "A gift the Chinabas have. That's why they're able to kill demons."

"Oh," Alex said simply. She stared uncomfortably out the front window for a few seconds before adding, "Thank-you."

Ruby raised her eyebrows but let her off the hook easily, obviously no more eager for a heartfelt moment than Alex was. "Don't mention it," she said dismissively.

"Okay then" Alex grinned, reaching for the radio and turning it up, grinning as the sound of The Kinks' _Lola _filled the car through the grainy and bass-challenged factory speakers.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

The two and a half hour trip took just under two hours, including a ten minute stop at a desolate all-night fill-up station just over the border where Dean changed out of his bloody clothes and reset Sam's dislocated shoulder. It was almost three-thirty in the morning when they pulled into the motel parking lot in Liberal, both taking subconscious note of the lights on in one of their rented rooms and Ruby's car parked out front.

Alex was sitting on one of the beds waiting for Ruby to finish cleaning herself up in the washroom. She had politely offered her first aid services but had received a curt refusal from the almost perpetually scowling demon. She chastised herself at the slight flutter her heart gave when she heard the Impala pull up.

Dean came through the door first, a tired smile spreading across his face when he saw her. She smiled back, noticing that his smile didn't quite reach his eyes but that he looked relatively unhurt except for one new bruise on his cheek and a stiffness in his walk. Her smile, however, disappeared when Sam appeared in the doorway behind his older brother.

The younger Winchester's clean face, obviously quickly cleaned by hand in a gas station washroom, was in sharp contrast to everything else about him. His neck, arms, and clothes were almost blackened with soot and dust and he was definitely favouring his left shoulder and limping slightly.

"Oh my God, Sam!" she cried, jumping off the bed. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine too, thanks for asking," Dean quipped, launching himself onto the bed she had just vacated.

"Are you?" she asked him, not sure if he was joking or not.

"I'll live," he replied, his smile fading. "Thanks to Sammy."

Sam slumped his shoulders in defeat at the comment, not bothering with a reply. He gladly let Alex help him out of his jacket, wincing when his shoulder twisted a little too far backwards.

"What happened to you?" she asked the younger and seemingly more affable Winchester at the moment.

"Dislocated shoulder," he answered simply. "Dean set it."

She gasped and winced her sympathy. "Ouch. I had one of those once. Josh set it for me and I'm embarrassed to say, I fainted," she offered.

Sam smiled. "That's not embarrassing," he consoled, though he shuddered to think of the ribbing he would have received if he had ever fainted on any of the numerous occasions Dean or his Dad had set a dislocated shoulder for him.

Ruby chose that moment to emerge from the bathroom, looking relatively intact. The only evidence of her earlier encounter was a slight limp, bloodstains on her jeans, and parallel rips in her leather jacket arm.

"What happened to you?" Sam asked sharply. Alex and Dean both noticed he didn't move towards her or offer any comfort.

"Why don't you ask Goldilocks?" Ruby snapped. Both men turned towards Alex.

"Turns out she's just a T-800, not a T-X model," Alex winked. "Her Sarah Connor is called a Chin…uh…"

"Chinaba," Ruby finished with a roll of her eyes.

Sam looked confused. Dean may be able to follow the movie references, but most of them were over Sam's head. "Did something attack you?"

"Blondie here can explain," Ruby said curtly. "I have to get going. Did you and K-Fed over there get what you were after?" Sam nodded. "Well, what's the going rate for babysitting these days?" she said, holding her hand out, palm up for a second. "You owe me." She walked briskly towards the door and left, closing it with a bit of a bang.

Sam turned to Alex. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"Dude, get cleaned up first. You look like shit," his brother suggested.

Sam sighed but agreed and made his way to the washroom, turning the shower on and waiting the few minutes it took for the water to get really, really hot before stepping in, breathing out in pleasure as the soothing spray ran softly over his battered body. He was fairly sure the effects of the drug, whatever it was, were gone and by the time he got out almost fifteen minutes later, he felt clear-headed and far less sore. He grabbed the ridiculously tiny motel towel and was drying himself off when a sentence spoken in his brother's voice caught his attention and he put his ear to the door to listen.

"Can I ask you something?" Dean had said.

"Of course," Alex replied.

"Would you kill an innocent child to save your brother's life?"

There was a pause before her reply. Sam was astounded that Dean was actually instigating this conversation. He usually ran faster than a friggin' cheetah in the opposite direction if he even caught wind of the possible of a mention of a feeling.

"I dunno, Dean," Alex replied thoughtfully. "I mean, I've never been in that situation and you never really know what you'll do until you're actually faced with the choice."

"Yeah, I suppose." Dean had mumbled those words.

"I think maybe the proper, honourable answer should be no but..." Alex trailed off.

"You might?" Dean sounded surprised.

"It would depend on the circumstances, I guess. It's human nature to favour your family over strangers, even kid strangers."

Sam smiled gratefully. For a girl who hated talking about feelings, Alex was a lot more like her brother than she would ever admit. She had thankfully just told Dean exactly what he needed to hear, convincingly arguing Sam's side of the disagreement for him.

He turned back to his pile of dirty clothes, regretting his lack of forethought in not bringing some clean ones in with him. The motel towel was just way too small to wear out into the room and he blushed just thinking about the blonde's inevitable teasing comments if he did. He sighed and pulled the dirty clothes back on before opening the door to find the pair sitting side by side on Dean's bed, laughing at some unheard joke.

As he moved into the room and grabbed his duffel to find something else to wear to bed, Alex stood up. "I'm gonna head down to the other room," she yawned. "Get some shut-eye."

Dean stood up quickly, reaching for his own duffel and pulling out his .45 which he tucked it in his pants. "I'll walk you down," he offered.

Alex grinned. "It's like five doors away," she pointed out. Maybe he was just being chivalrous, and hopefully this was the case, but she didn't want him getting any ideas about sticking around in her room. She had finally admitted to herself she was completely smitten with the hot, charming, incredibly brave elder Winchester and for that reason, he terrified her. She wasn't about to let herself be another notch in his belt or another passing fling. She had enough problems right now without adding heartbreak to the list.

"Yeah, and someone sent two chimpanzeetas or whatever after you tonight so you're not going anywhere without me checking the place out and taking a few precautionary measures." He was using his military voice, clearly just being a good hunter. _Oh_. She felt like a fool for even suspecting he had any ulterior motives in accompanying her to her room.

"Fine, you can salt my doors for me," she shrugged, half relieved, half disappointed.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Dean was gone about fifteen minutes and Sam waited patiently for him to get back and fill him in on what had transpired with Ruby and Alex. He had tried to call Ruby but the demon was not answering her phone. Dean came back to the room in good spirits and Sam couldn't help but smile at his suspected reason for the lift in Dean's mood.

"That was quick," he grinned cheekily.

Dean didn't miss the implication and huffed his disapproval at both the insinuation that he had done anything with Alex and the suggestion that he had been 'quick' while doing it.

"Okay, so what happened with Ruby and Alex tonight?" Sam asked, changing the subject.

Dean repeated the story exactly as Alex had told it to him, including pointing out the fact that Ruby could have left but didn't and that Castiel had shown up to rescue them.

Sam snorted at both revelations. The snort about Ruby was an '_I told you so_' snort, and the one about Castiel was more of a '_howcome the bastard lets us get the shit kicked out of us and shows up to save the girls?_' snort. Dean just gave him a shrug as a response to both.

"So why would something want to kill Alex?" Sam asked the same question Dean and Alex had both wondered themselves.

"I dunno. It doesn't make any sense." Dean shook his head, a deep crease in his brow. "She hasn't come across very many demons in the past and her Red-Eyed stalker seems to want to go after her himself; I don't think he'd send mercenaries after her. Agramona-dude at Marty's cabin was interested in her but we dusted him so it couldn't have been him."

They tried to come up with a likely culprit but were unable to do so, both harbouring a guilty suspicion that it was the blonde's association with them that had brought this new threat to her doorstep.

"So tell me, why haven't you hooked up with Alex yet?" Sam asked his brother as the elder Winchester changed his t-shirt. Sam narrowed his eyes in shock and curiosity at the bite-sized red welts on Dean's torso that he hadn't noticed before but decided not to ask about them just now. He was trying to keep the conversation away from the recent disturbing events in Oklahoma. Dean would eventually tell him where they had come from.

"I don't screw every chick we come across, Sam."

Sam chuckled. "No, but you certainly try."

"Ain't gonna happen, dude."

"I'm just sayin'…"

Dean turned to face his brother with a warning look. "What's with the Cupid routine? Why do you want me to hook up with Lex so bad?" he demanded. "You've been hinting at it since Texas. I thought you didn't approve of the way I treat women."

Sam laughed a friendly laugh. "No, not anymore. I still disapprove of a lot of the women you manage to scrape up but not the way you treat them."

"This coming from a guy whose current choice of female companion is a demon. A _demon_, Sam."

"This isn't about me and Ruby's not my girlfriend," Sam defended, not letting Dean change the subject. "I'm just saying, Alex likes your crap music. She gets your lame movie references. For some strange reason, she actually thinks you're funny."

Dean rolled his eyes, a bit surprised at how much thought Sam seemed to have put into this. "Dude, her favourite band is the Red Hot Friggin' Chili Peppers. And she likes your crap music too," he pointed out. "I saw you two swapping your ipod Bluetooth thingy's or whatever."

Sam laughed. "It's air sharing. And my point still stands."

"What exactly is your point, Sam?"

Sam took a drink of water before continuing. "I'm just saying you're not exactly the guy next door. Some school teacher or accounting clerk isn't gonna be able to deal with your life. Alex knows what you do for a living and it doesn't bother her. I mean, she accepted the news that the apocalypse is impending and we're helping angels keep Lucifer from killing everyone on the planet with a nod of her head." Sam had truthfully been really impressed with Alex's calm acceptance of the terrifying news.

"She doesn't care that you spend half your nights sleeping in your car and she doesn't care that your brother has demon blood in him," he continued, ignoring the sharp look Dean gave him at that last statement. For once he hadn't actually meant it as an insult to himself. "She's got a built-in supernatural radar and could benefit from having someone like you around. She lives off the grid, she lies to priests without blinking, and uh, did I mention she's hot?"

Dean sighed. He couldn't deny part of him longed for a more peaceful life with a woman to love who would love him back and it had occurred to him more than once that Lex would fit the bill, but it just seemed so unrealistic and undeserved at this point. Whatever Sam's reason for trying to push him to hook up with her, he knew it wasn't a good idea. He'd already put her in danger just by being around her. Because she knew the truth about the way things were in the world didn't make her any safer around him.

"Why do you keep pushing this?" he demanded gruffly, not enjoying the reminder of what he couldn't have. "What do you want? Me to get married, have kids, and travel around with the family and the dog in the back of the Impala going from hunt to hunt?"

Sam realized he wasn't getting through. His brother kept saying he was tired of 'everything' but he refused to even contemplate doing anything but hunting. "Haven't you ever considered a life after hunting?" Sam had asked this question many times and never got an acceptable answer. Today was no different.

"There won't be any for me Sam. When I stop hunting, it'll be because I'm dead." Dean sighed as he delivered his standard, practiced answer. "So drop it, okay. You like her so much, you go for it."

"Not my type."

Now it was Dean's turn to snort. "She's hot and blonde. If memory serves me, that's _exactly_ your type. Current squeeze being the exception, of course."

"It's not like that with Ruby," Sam snapped, regretting for the hundredth time coming clean about his physical relationship with the demon. "And if you're referring to Jessica, hot and blonde is _all_ she and Alex have in common."

Sam leaned gingerly back on his pillows and slid his legs under the sheet, the mention of Jessica bringing flashes of memory of the time he had spent with her. The closest he had ever been to happy.

"Jess was everything Alex isn't," he said more quietly. "The weird crap in our lives, that's a part of Alex's life too, it always will be. She couldn't get away from it even if she wanted to. Jess was so different. The things she was the most afraid of were spiders and her English Lit professor's creepy toupee. Her idea of an exciting afternoon was visiting an art gallery with a Henry Raschen exhibit. She baked cookies. Chocolate chip cookies. I swear, Dean, you've never tasted anything so good. Instead of all-night stake-outs on haunted houses and breaking and entering, she liked to spend her evenings curled up on the couch with a book. Not an instruction manual on assembling and disassembling an M21 sniper rifle, but a real book."

Sam smiled, turning to look at Dean as he clarified the definition of a book before continuing. "We would talk for hours about art and politics and travel. We were gonna visit Europe after graduation. Did you know she wanted a house in the countryside with a barn and a horse? A white horse. Everything about her was so untainted, so far from this life."

There was a momentary silence in the room before Dean spoke. "You know," he said quietly, "that's the most you've ever told me about her."

Sam shrugged. "Well, no point on dwelling. That life's out of the question for me now."

"You never know Sammy, once we thwart the apocalypse…"

Sam snorted, the hint of a smile forming at the corners of his mouth at his brother's unexpected use of the word thwart. "Normal's not in the cards for me, Dean."

"Why not?" Dean pushed. He hadn't been sure of late that Sam still wanted normal, even though it was all the kid used to go on about before their father had died. He wanted Sam to _want_ normal, like the old Sammy had.

"I've got demon blood in me, Dean. There is nothing normal about that."

"For the millionth time, Sam, that doesn't make you evil. Stop messin' with your psychic demon powers and you could still have your apple pie life." Dean reached his limit with the emo-talk. "Speaking of which, dude, I'm hungry."

With that, he snatched the Impala's keys from the table and quickly left the room to search the back seat for some leftover pie he had bought on their way to Okalahoma, effectively and abruptly ending the conversation.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Sam shook Dean awake just before nine, successfully ending another nightmare before it progressed to screaming out loud. Clearly shaken by whatever he had experienced in his restless slumber, Dean was crankier than his usual sour morning self.

"Bobby called," Sam announced as Dean emerged from the washroom fully dressed after his shower. "He'll be here soon. He wants to get a move on and get this ritual over with."

Dean was in full agreement with getting this thing done and went to fetch Alex from her room. She was up and showered and he patiently waited the ten minutes it took her to dry her hair before the pair headed back to the boys' room. Just as she closed her door behind her, Dean heard a hiss and Alex grabbed his arm in a painfully tight grip.

He looked around, instantly in hunter mode, but all he could see was a plump, orange cat in front of them.

"Shit," Alex swore in his ear, fear in her voice as she tucked herself in behind him.

Dean stared down at the small orange ball of fluff on the concrete pathway and found himself actually stunned into complete inaction. Its back was arched higher than any cat he'd ever seen before, its hair standing on end to the point where it looked like one of those cats in the cartoons when they get electrocuted. It was hissing louder than a whole colony of hissing cockroaches and was definitely staring at Alex.

His disbelief finally turned into laughter as he felt Alex gripping his arm and hiding behind him in fear. He remembered last year she had mentioned that some cats took a dislike to her, but he hadn't been in the fortunate position to witness her trouble until now.

"Get rid of it," she whispered urgently in his ear. "It won't go after you."

"Alright, alright," he chuckled, taking a step forward towards the fuzzy threat with his hands outstretched. "Here kitty kitty," he spoke soothingly as he advanced.

The plump cat ignored him, still staring past him towards the blonde. Dean lunged forward quickly to grab it but it flew right by him. He heard a squeal and saw Alex sprint the couple of steps to the bench, jumping on it and up over it in a single step and clambering onto the top of the adjacent pop machine. The fast little fuzzball was screeching its way after her and was making the last jump onto the pop machine when Dean quickly reached out and caught it in midair. It struggled and squirmed for a few seconds in his hands and he quickly walked away from Alex until it finally calmed down, obviously no longer sensing her psychic mojo. He put it down and shooed it away in the opposite direction, watching to be sure it kept going and didn't double back.

When he was sure it was gone, he turned back around to see Alex still on her knees on top of the pop machine, watching the little orange cat round the corner of the building on the far end of the parking lot. He burst into laughter at the sight, clutching his bruised ribs in pain as they heaved with heavy guffaws.

"Who's your hero now?" he teased with a cocky grin.

"I hate fucking cats," she scowled, obviously not finding the situation nearly as amusing as he did. She climbed down from the pop machine, dusting herself off as she did so. "That little orange bastard has been eyeing me since we checked in here."

Her annoyance just made Dean laugh harder as they continued towards their other room. Alex noticed her brother's Bronco parked outside and managed a smile at the sight of it, despite her embarrassment over the cat incident. To her, that car represented her brother.

"Oh good," Dean laughed. "Bobby's back. More people for me to tell about killer kitty."

Alex scowled at him. "Don't you dare," she warned. It was obvious he was having too much fun with this to drop it. "I'll embarrass you ten times over Dean, I'm warning you. You should really consider keeping this to yourself."

Dean snorted at her threat. "I don't get embarrassed. There's nothing you could do that would embarrass me."

Alex took his cocky grin as a challenge and laughed back. "Oh, it's on. You're goin' down."

She reached the door first and began speaking loudly enough for those inside to hear as she reached for the door knob. "Don't worry, Dean. It happens to guys all the time, especially when they reach your age." She was walking backwards into the room, pushing the door open with her back as she spoke, a serious look on her face. "They have pills to help with that now. It's okay. It'll work better next time, I'm sure." She turned to face the room and pretended to start a little at the sight of Bobby and Sam standing there, disbelieving grins in their faces. "Oh, hi guys. Hope you didn't hear that."

Dean walked in behind her, mouth open in disbelief and face flushing in embarrassment. He threw his hands in the air in a gesture of innocence. "I didn't touch her," he said quickly.

"Apparently not," Bobby grunted, the amused twinkle in his eyes contradicting his gruff tone.

Dean pouted but decided to shelf the cat story for a better time. "Okay, Bobby. We got the dagger, what's our next move?"

Bobby studied Dean for a brief second before answering. They had filled the elder hunter in on the events at Brother Adam's compound over the phone and, although he was sure they had left out a few choice details, a quick surreptitious once-over of each of the boys was all the mechanic needed to reassure himself they were both alive with no serious damage. He didn't always rely on getting an honest assessment of injuries from them and had fallen into the habit of double-checking himself. Both were on their feet and talking; that was good enough for him at this point in the game.

The older hunter filled them in on the details of the ritual. He had been aware they had needed Thanin's blood; he just hadn't brought the subject up in front of Pamela. According to Bobby's intel, Thanin bound himself to the stone when he originally gave the medallion its power. In order to 'neuter' the medallion, they would need to perform a rather complicated ritual involving Thanin's blood. The final steps in the ritual included killing Thanin, not just exorcising him, and then using the second stone to smash the first. The smashing part had to be done by a full-blooded demon, which is where Ruby would come in.

"How do we kill Thanin?" Alex asked. "With Ruby's knife?"

Bobby shrugged. He was fairly confident that the demon would have found a human 'meat-suit' by now and unfortunately, the only way they were aware of to kill a demon was to kill the host. "Thanin's pretty high level. Ruby's knife should work, but even if it doesn't, I'm pretty sure Aulenback's dagger will work because it has a piece of the stone in it too. Remember the stones are from the same source. Once we're finished the ritual with the blood, Thanin should be vulnerable to the stone in the dagger."

"_Pretty_ sure, Bobby?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

Bobby threw him a reproachful glare. "We've gone ahead with less than 'pretty sure' before, haven't we?"

To Alex's shock, both brothers nodded at this and didn't seem particularly bothered by all the if's and maybe's in the plan.

"Okay, let's do this," Dean clapped his hands together eagerly. "I'd say we're gonna need a spot a little more private than a motel room," he ventured. "I'll go find us an empty warehouse or something." He grabbed the Impala's keys from the table. As he left, Dean turned back to Alex. "Don't worry," he grinned. "Sammy here can take care of Garfield if he comes back."

Ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Bobby grumbled but grabbed a shotgun and made his way over to the peephole, craning his neck upwards to see out. Sam had grabbed his 9mm from under his pillow and held his arm out to Alex, indicating for her to get into the back corner of the room by the washroom door.

Bobby clucked and grumbled but placed the shotgun on the floor, propped against the wall behind the door before flinging it open to face whoever was knocking. Sam peered past the older man to see three kids standing on the stoop looking incredibly intimidated.

He chuckled as he recognized the older two as a couple of the kids Dean and Alex had been having a waterfight with in the park behind the motel yesterday. He came over to stand next to Bobby.

The oldest boy finally got up the nerve to speak. "Can Dean come out to play?"

Bobby shook his head in apparent irritation as he moved back into the room. "Idjit," he mumbled.

Sam laughed. "I'm sorry, Dean's gone away," he said politely.

"How 'bout Lex?" the girl ventured.

Sam glanced over at the blonde, who was out of sight by the bathroom door. "Um, she's gone too," he lied.

The third kid, a younger boy of about three, leaned in and whispered something in the girl's ear. She giggled and covered her hand with her mouth. "No," she answered the kid back, looking up at Sam. "He's not a giant."

Sam rolled his eyes. He had always been awkward around kids. As much as Dean grumbled and complained about any 'brats' they ran into, he had a natural knack for putting them at ease and talking comfortably around them. Sam supposed it was from being a father to him from the age of five.

Bobby grunted again. "Now get lost, kids. And don't come back, ye hear?"

Their eyes widened and they quickly turned and walked very briskly away. Sam shook his head as he closed the door. Bobby, on the other hand, had been an acquired taste. He remembered Dean telling him of how scary Bobby had seemed when they had first met him. Sam, having been only three years old, didn't remember ever seeing the mechanic as scary. For all his gruffness and curt comments, it was painfully obvious how caring and nurturing Bobby really was. Of course, that wasn't usually the first impression people got of the man.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Uriel was standing on the highest platform of a large water tower when Castiel appeared behind him. They stood together in silence for a moment, gazing out over the hilly landscape, watching the morning mist hover above the earth in wispy clouds of white.

A minor furrow of his brow being the only indication betraying his annoyance at his brother, Castiel spoke first.

"You were to test the demon Ruby's loyalty to Sam, not have her killed," he scolded. "Not yet."

Uriel seemed unfazed by the reprimand from his superior. "They would not have killed the demon."

Castiel sighed, realizing Uriel did not have nor would ever have any regrets on this matter. "You almost killed an innocent human," he pointed out.

Uriel snorted. "No such thing. And besides, so what? An insignificant spec." He finally turned away from the view and faced Castiel, looking him in the eye. "We will have to make far greater sacrifices than that to win this war, my brother. One human girl is of no importance to us."

_Perhaps not_, thought Castiel. _But she is clearly important to Dean. _"She may be of value yet. She was able to perceive my true form," he admitted.

Uriel's head perked up. "Then she is also a possible vessel! A powerful one. Castiel, why have you not mentioned this?" He shook his head in undisguised disapproval of his superior. "You are well aware fitting vessels are hard to find in these times of little faith. Many of our brothers and sisters are dwelling in vessels who cannot hold a coherent thought. You, my friend, cannot know how disturbing this can be, having always been fortunate enough to find relatively sane vessels. They are becoming fewer and farther between. You are becoming too fond of these humans, these wastes of space."

Castiel merely sighed, deciding to keep his remark defending God's creations to himself this time. There would doubtlessly be plenty of other opportunities to present those arguments to Uriel. "I do not know yet if she is suitable," he said evenly. "I have yet to determine her level of faith."

Cas found himself hoping the girl was not suitable for angel habitation. He was fairly certain Dean would not be pleased at the prospect. His charge was beginning to show some trust in Castiel again after the unfortunate incident with Anna and he did not want to jeopardize that. He wondered for the briefest of seconds whether he did not want this for the sake of the cause or for his own personal comfort. Was he becoming too attached to Dean Winchester? He certainly respected the man far more than he had ever expected to. What he saw when he looked into Dean confused him, worried him, but strangely inspired him also.

His thoughts must have been conveyed clearly in his facial movements for he looked over to see Uriel studying him.

"Do not let your compassion for the Winchester boy cloud your judgment," the other angel warned, ignoring the chain of command protocol as usual. "Anyway, I still don't like the idea of letting that demon near the medallion."

Glad for the change of subject, Castiel answered his friend. "She passed your test, did she not? She did not let the human die to save herself." He stepped up to the railing and placed both of Jimmy's hands upon it, staring out at the thinning mist. "Besides," he added, "our orders on this matter are to trust Dean's judgment."

Uriel snorted again and moved to lean on the railing next to his brother. "I will obey my orders," he sneered. "But that doesn't mean I have to like them."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

**TBC...**

_Next up: The showdown with Thanin..._


	19. Been There, Done That

**Chapter 19** - **Been There, Done That**

Bobby had gone down to the motel office to try and get a third room, leaving Sam and Alex alone. Having had no luck in his matchmaking efforts with Dean, Sam decided to try one last ditch attempt with Alex. He couldn't honestly be sure if he was pursuing the issue because he thought it would be good for his brother or because of what Ruby had said at Marty's cabin about distracting Dean so she and Sam could focus on killing Lillith, but he managed to semi-convince himself it was the former.

"You know, you and Dean are a lot alike." He voiced his observation in a casual, thoughtful tone.

"Hmph," Alex replied, barely looking up from her laptop on the table where she was searching for incident reports at Fort Worth Prison and thankfully not finding anything involving inmate number 091273 - J. Brenton. "How do you figure?"

Sam leaned back on his bed and put his hands behind his head against the headboard. "You have to see that you two have a lot in common."

That apparently got the girl's attention because she gave him a snort and an eye roll. "That is so not true," she smiled.

"Yeah you do," Sam pressed.

"How so?" Alex turned in her seat to face the younger Winchester, a bit cautious at his choice of conversation topics but curious all the same. The way she saw it, nobody had very much in common with Dean – he was pretty much out of everyone else's league. And fuck, she just couldn't stop thinking about him.

"You're both into music," Sam pointed out. "Borderline obsessively into music, actually. For some strange reason, you both enjoy being on the road and spending hours on end cooped up in a car. Neither of you like riding shotgun. Let's see, you both like your coffee so strong you're one step away from injecting it intravenously. You, uh, both like to joke around and make light of things." He creased his brow, unable to come up with any other points off the top of his head that he could voice and still keep the conversation casual._ You're both completely clueless when it comes to liking each other, __he thought to himself._

Alex shook her head. "That all you got, Fiver?" she chuckled. "Let's see. Me and Dean. Things in common. Well, I'm city; he's country. I'm surf; he's turf. I'm the Gap, he's the Salvation Army. Want me to go on?" She didn't wait for a reply. "I'm California shades and kakhis; he's plaid and layers. I grew up on an estate in Malibu and attended the Mirkwood Academy Prep School for Girls; you two called motel rooms like this one home and went to like, five hundred different public schools. Ummm…I'd never even held a gun until I was eighteen; Dean could load and shoot a 9mm when he was seven."

She paused for a second and Sam interrupted, entertained by her rant and not in the least offended at her pointing out the differences in their upbringings since her tone clearly indicated she had more respect for their modest means growing up than her more affluent childhood. A passing thought of amusement ran through his head at how only people who had money ever discounted its importance. "That all you got?" he teased, undeterred.

Alex continued, her palms suddenly feeling clammy and her cheeks getting flushed. "Not by a long shot." Sam should have known better than to challenge the blonde. She wasn't as competitive as her brother but she didn't like to back down from a challenge or an argument. "Uh, he's a hunter, I'm more hun_**ted**_. I've caused boatloads of trouble for my brother and my family my whole life but Dean seems to, if you don't mind me saying so, look out for you and maybe even keep you _out_ of trouble." She was leaning back in her chair now but carefully kept her eyes averted from Sam's, picking at the peeling paint on the chair armrest as she continued.

"Dean seems to have worked hard his whole life just doing for others - helping others, protecting others, saving others. As far as I can tell, he never does anything for himself. His main mission in life is to save people, mostly strangers who don't even know it. Both you Winchesters have spent your lives chasing a demon and every other nasty sonofabitch that hurts or kills people, not running away from one like I have. Dean's... Dean's brave, he's smart, and he's the best hunter I've ever seen by a long shot. I mean, God Himself actually ordered an angel to march into Hell and personally save your brother. _That's_ how special he is." She glanced back up at the hunter on the bed. "So you see, I have very little in common with Dean because nobody does."

Sam stared at her for a few seconds, not sure what to say. "Wow," he finally breathed. "I wish Dean saw himself as half the man that you do."

Alex seemed uncomfortable at her transparency and sat up, waving a dismissive hand in the air. "You're not trying to set us up, are you?" she scoffed, attempting a joking grin. "'Cause that's so not a good idea and so not gonna happen."

"Why not?" Sam demanded, not understanding her resistance when it was clear how she felt. "You can't honestly tell me that you don't like him."

"That's not the point," she replied flatly. Sam noticed she did not deny the accusation. "Your brother has a lot on his plate. He has his hands full with your little mission to save the world and all." She leaned back in her chair and shrugged. "Let's face it, I'm what you would call high-maintenance, not to mention dangerous to have around."

"Josh never felt that way," Sam argued. "Neither would Dean."

"That doesn't make it not true," she pointed out. "Besides, I'm shocked I've made it to twenty-five. I really don't stand much chance of making it to thirty. Just look at the trouble I've managed to attract this week. You want a sister-in-law with nephews and nieces, I suggest you keep looking, Cupid."

Sam found her casual acceptance of a short life expectancy upsetting and mentally added another thing she and Dean had in common to his list. "I thought you were an optimist," he challenged.

"I try to be," she shrugged. "But that doesn't mean the bad shit's not gonna happen. It just means I ignore it until it's staring me in the face."

"Well, with an attitude like that, a lifetime alone is what's staring you in the face," he fired back.

"Ouch. Gee, Sam, don't hold back."

There was a pause, both feeling uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken, before Sam finally spoke quietly. "You know, Dean always said he'd never make it to thirty and guess what? It's his birthday tomorrow."

"Ah, but he didn't actually make it to thirty, did he? He died last year, remember?"

Sam looked thoughtful. Surprisingly, he had never really considered that before. "You're right," he said, amused. "Technically his birthday is now sometime in May."

Alex grinned at him, thankful for the reprieve. "If you're trying to get out of buying him a present Sam, that's just cheap."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

"So, you sure Ruby's gonna show up?" Alex asked as they pulled up outside the derelict, abandoned factory Dean had sniffed out like a bloodhound in less than half an hour of driving around in the Impala.

"Don't worry, she'll be here," Sam assured her as they headed inside. He and Dean carried an assortment of weapons each and a few things Bobby had picked up for the ritual. Bobby was left outside rooting through the Bronco for the book he had swindled from the old coot Jackson, grumbling something to himself about these boys making him old and forgetful long before his time.

"Being on time probably isn't that important when you're six hundred and sixty years old."

Sam turned sharply to the blonde. "She's six hundred and sixty?"

Alex snickered. "Yup. Kinda makes you the world's number one boy-toy, doesn't it?"

Sam huffed, somehow not surprised she had figured out what had happened - _kept_ happening if he was being honest - between him and Ruby. Dean made a chortling sound.

"She told you when she was born?" Sam asked, ignoring the comment and his brother's sniggering.

"Yeah," Alex shrugged, not sure why that would be a big deal. "She said 1347."

"But America wasn't really discovered until 1492," Sam thought out loud. "Was she a native?"

"Well no. She wasn't born here," Alex rolled her eyes. "She's from France."

"Really?" Sam found the new intel surprising, mainly because he hadn't really thought about Ruby's life as a human before.

"Yeah. Her father was a farmer. She had a younger sister. She was a redhead." Alex could see the surprised look on Sam's face, this clearly being the first time he was hearing all this. "How come you don't know this stuff already?" she accused. "I thought you'd known her for over a year."

Sam shrugged. "I never bothered to ask, I guess."

The blonde narrowed her eyes at the young hunter. "I'm disappointed in you Sam," she chided, shaking her head. "I really had you figured wrong. I mean, would a little pillow-talk really kill ya?"

Dean snorted his amusement at the irony of which Winchester was currently getting dressed down for his treatment of a woman. He gave his little brother a playful shoulder bump, leaning in to gloat quietly in his ear. "I told you it's never a good idea to leave girls alone together, dude. This is your own fault."

As it turns out, Ruby did arrive on time, though she didn't look pleased at being ordered to attend the dangerous ritual. Bobby triumphantly held up the book that had managed to slide under the Bronco's passenger seat during his drive to Pamela's. They all spent the next twenty minutes drawing and spreading symbols on the walls and floor of the main production room of the factory with chalk, paint, and some rank powder Bobby had picked up on his travels.

Dean chalked an extra Devil's Trap to the side of the main summoning circle. Ruby stood with a frown and her hands on her hips. "That's not in the book," she said snidely.

The hunter straightened up and threw her a malicious grin. "This one's especially for you, sweetheart," he informed her. "Can't be handing an angel-killing medallion to a demon without taking _some_ precautions, can we?"

Ruby's eyes shot wide and Dean could actually see her nostrils flaring in fury. She spun quickly to Sam. "I am not getting in there! I'll be a sitting duck for Thanin!"

Sam huffed impatiently. "We'll have Thanin bound by the spell and the circle, Ruby. He won't be able to touch you any more than he'll be able to come after us."

One side of her lip curled up and her eyes narrowed as she glared at Sam for a few seconds before grudgingly agreeing. "Fine," she spat.

"What a good little demon you've trained, Sammy," Dean quipped, deriving some small measure of enjoyment from the dagger-eyes he knew were piercing right through him as he walked away from the brunette. "You should give her an extra Scooby snack."

In an effort to change the subject before things got uglier, Sam turned to Bobby, who had been watching the exchange with his usual straight face though his eyes were twinkling in silent amusement. "Okay Bobby, can you go over this one more time?"

The mechanic nodded and moved to the center of the summoning circle. "Right, listen up. Here's how it goes. You," he pointed to Ruby, "are gonna stand in that Devil's Trap there and wait for me to pass you the medallion and Dean to pass you Aulenback's dagger. When you've got them both, you use Aulenback's dagger to pry the stone out of the medallion and smash it to bits. Simple. Think you can keep that straight?"

Ruby nodded curtly, her arms folded across her chest.

"You," he turned towards Alex, "are in charge of keeping the perimeter salt lines intact."

"From _outside_ the building," Dean added, giving her a stern look to emphasize his point that she not be inside the building during the ritual.

Alex rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I stay outside and keep an eye on the lines."

Bobby tilted his head and gave her a skeptical look. "These rituals can get pretty hairy," he told her. "When you've got things passing between worlds and shit, it can stir up quite a breeze. It's not unlikely that the lines'll get disturbed. Keeping them unbroken may be the only way we can make sure Thanin doesn't get away. And if, Heaven forbid, something goes wrong and he somehow gets his paws on that medallion, keeping him in here may be the difference between Armageddon and…well, _not_ Armageddon."

"I'm on it," she assured him, removing the sarcasm from her voice this time.

Satisfied, Bobby nodded and turned to the Winchesters. "Like I said before, this is a mighty scary ritual. You can summon a demon to come willingly but _forcing_ one, especially one as powerful as Thanin, is like putting a dental floss leash on a great white. For starters, other things can possibly get sucked through with him. You boys are gonna have to take care of them quick. Once the big guy gets here, we need to get some of his blood and keep him contained while I use the blood to bind the stone to him."

"I thought the stone was already bound to him when he created it," Dean interjected.

Bobby shook his head. "Nope, other way around. He's bound to the stone. If the stone gets destroyed, he dies. But that don't mean squat since we can't destroy the stone while it's protected within the medallion. We need to do a ritual to make the opposite apply; so that if Thanin gets killed, the stone loses its power. That way when we kill him, Ruby here in all her twisted-soul demon-ness should be able to bypass the medallion's protection and pry the stone out with Aulenback's dagger. Then we smash it."

Dean checked that the shotgun in his hands was loaded, snapping it shut with a confident nod. "Okay," he rallied, "Let's do this."

Bobby shrugged. "No time like the present huh?"

Sam picked up a shotgun loaded with salt rounds as well. He had Ruby's knife and glanced over at Dean to make sure his brother had the dagger. Ruby gave Sam an indecipherable look before stepping gingerly into the Devil's Trap a few feet away. Alex grabbed the bag of leftover salt and turned towards the door. She hesitated and turned around, looking back and forth between Dean and Sam.

"Be careful. Don't go getting yourselves killed."

Dean gave her an encouraging grin. "Don't worry Sunshine. Been there, done that."

"Well," Alex replied, trying to sound casual, "let's hope you last longer the second time around."

"Oh, I _always_ last longer the second time around," the elder Winchester fired back with a lewd wink.

Sam chuckled but shook his head. His brother just couldn't seem to help himself. He really, truly hadn't matured at all since the age of fifteen.

Bobby rolled his eyes and gave Dean a shove towards the summoning circle. "Save it for later, Romeo. We got work to do."

The factory was an old beef processing plant, probably shut down sometime in the late eighties. It wasn't very big as far as beef processing plants go and most of the equipment had long since been removed. The main assembly-line area was the largest room in which the group had set up their paraphernalia for the ritual, having closed the doors to the few small offices lining the inside wall. There were steel pedways and crane rails above their heads and the panes of glass in the small, second level windows were so dirty and stained that very little light was getting in.

With everyone in position, Bobby flipped open Jackson's book and started to read verses from the text in a language even Sam didn't recognize. His voice was clear and echoed slightly in the empty space but nothing happened for the first few minutes. Dean found his eyes darting around edgily, the memories still sharp of what had happened when they had tried a much simpler ritual than this with Pamela the previous day_. Let's hope we don't screw the pooch on this one too_, he thought to himself, glancing over at Bobby and Sam for some small measure of comfort that they were still okay so far.

The first sign the ritual was working was an eerie breeze, out of place in the closed up factory and seemingly coming from all directions. Bobby's voice faltered for a brief second as he tore his eyes away from the book to glance around the room in anticipation but he managed to continue reading. Ruby fidgeted in her Devil's Trap while Dean and Sam stood on either side of Bobby, shotguns in hand and packed duffel on the floor behind Dean, both armed and ready for whatever the ritual threw their way. Bobby himself was seated cross-legged about six feet away from the summoning circle, an assortment of objects and charms laid out in front of him.

Dean felt a chill and noticed a slight fog cloud around his exhaled breath. "Head's up, something's coming!" he warned.

The breeze was getting stronger but a sudden powerful gust was accompanied by a loud, piercing shriek. Sam looked up to see the translucent form of an old woman coming at him from the direction of the circle. He fired a round of rock salt at her and she dispersed, reforming quickly behind him. He spun around and fired again, wincing at the painful pitch of her screaming. A banshee. _Fuck he hated banshees!_

She seemed focused on Sam, which was a little disturbing in itself to Sam since banshees tended to pick up on feelings of heartbreak and lost love. Surely Bobby would have been a more suitable prey? Dean even? Sam had thought he was getting over the loss of Jessica and was starting to accept that love just wasn't in the cards for him, what with his demon blood and all. He honestly believed he was okay with that now. Maybe he just didn't think about it anymore.

The banshee's attention to the younger Winchester, however, gave Dean the time to haul the appropriate weaponry out of his duffel. He loaded a flare gun with a homemade pellet of Chemona berry dust and fired just as the banshee's non-corporeal hand forced its way into Sam's chest and began squeezing his rapidly beating heart. The screaming stopped abruptly and the figure disappeared amidst a choking cloud of dust. Chemona berries were not real berries; they were actually seeds from a rare plant in India that, when grown on holy ground, could be ground up into a red powder that was able to kill banshees and even some lesser wraiths.

"Sam! You okay?" came his brother's worried voice. Sam managed a nod, straightening up and trying to steady his breathing, rubbing the pain out of his chest.

Bobby was still reading. In fact, the experienced hunter hadn't stopped at all, completely trusting the boys to take care of the banshee that had somehow been sucked into the vortex that was hopefully hauling Thanin's demon ass their way as he spoke.

What came next was a little more unexpected. A chilling howl sounded just before a huge, wolf-like black dog appeared, its eyes yellow slits of anger and blood-red saliva dripping from its snarling fangs. Dean's eyes flew open and he involuntarily took a few steps back. _Jesus, it looked an awful lot like those Hellhounds!_

Luckily, being corporeal, the Black Dog was confined inside the summoning circle.

Sam noticed the look of horror and unabashed fear that swallowed his brother's face when the dog appeared. Putting two and two together, he quickly surmised the reason behind it. He swiftly but subtly moved around to Dean's side of the circle, stepping in between his brother and the dog before turning to Bobby, who was scooting himself backwards away from the dripping fangs of the growling beast with an apprehensive look on his face.

"How do we kill it, Bobby?" Sam demanded.

Bobby stopped his reading for a second, glancing up at Sam and over to Dean, his heart lurching as he picked up on what Sam had already noticed. "Balls, uh…." he stammered in thought. "Silver will hurt it but it won't kill it."

"Can we send it back?" Dean asked, his voice revealing only a hint of the fear and near panic he was feeling, his mind replaying the memory of being savagely shredded by beasts just like this one less than a year ago and the forty years of horror that followed. Sam was standing between him and the threat and for once, for the first time he could remember, Dean couldn't bring himself to move in front of him. He wanted to but his legs just wouldn't obey.

Bobby shook his head in answer to Dean's question. The circle was keeping the dog contained but when Thanin got here, the two of them together may be too much for the power of the spell holding them in. They had to kill this thing and fast.

"What about the dagger?" Ruby offered.

All three men spun their heads towards her, having completely forgotten she was there.

"Your dagger will work on a Black Dog?" Sam asked hopefully_. Why the Hell hadn't she told them that when the Hellhounds were coming for Dean!_ Hellhounds and Black Dogs were very similar; Dean's current pale complexion and the sheen of sweat on his forehead were testaments to that fact.

"Not mine, Aulenback's," Ruby corrected.

Bobby snapped his fingers in realization. "Yes! Aulenback's dagger can kill a Black Dog if it's been blessed within the lunar cycle!"

"Has it?" Dean's voice almost cracked as he spoke, the dog now lunging at the edges of the circle towards them. It was all he could do to stand his ground and he kept his eyes carefully averted from the savage beast six feet away from him.

Sam noticed. "Doubtful," the younger Winchester said briskly, turning and squatting down in front of the duffel bag, rooting through it roughly. He hauled out a flask of holy water but swore when he realized they were one item short.

"We didn't bring in the rosary!" he spat in annoyance.

"Dean, son, why don't you go get it?" Bobby suggested, hoping to give the boy an excuse to distance himself from the snarling reminder of his last death.

Dean shook his head, shoulders straightening defiantly as he took a step closer to Sam. "No way! I'm not leaving you two in here for a second with that thing, circle or no circle!"

Disappointed, frustrated, and immensely proud all at the same time, Bobby pushed himself to his feet with what resembled a snarl. "Fine, I'll go get it," he grumbled, heading for the door. "Don't do anything 'til I get back!" he warned sternly, jabbing a finger at the stubborn pair that were the closest things he had to sons.

The Black Dog began pacing back and forth in the circle, eyeing the hunters greedily. Obviously furious at being hurled through a supernatural vortex against its will, it was looking to curb its anger with a nice meal of human meat and bones. Sam and Dean apparently looked quite tasty.

It suddenly whimpered nervously and ran to the back of the circle, its head jerking around as if to find some unseen threat within the painted prison. The gentle gusts of wind that had calmed since the appearance of the canine abruptly picked up again, swirling around the room so strongly that Bobby's spell stuff started blowing around, the pages _of The Carligan Book of Demons and Demonic Artifacts _flicking over in rapid succession until the book's heavy cover slammed shut with an ominous thud.

"This can't be good," Dean groaned, finger moving to the trigger of the shotgun he had re-armed himself with after successfully dispensing of the banshee. He swallowed his nauseating fear and moved up next to Sam, who still stood closer to the circle and the Black Dog than Dean would have liked.

"Bobby stopped reading," Sam thought out loud. "Surely nothing else can come through right now... right?"

Apparently _wrong_ because two seconds later a man stood in the center of the circle with the dog. There hadn't been a puff of smoke or a flash of light; he was just sort of there where he hadn't been the instant before. He was a middle-aged man with a short crop of spiked, grey hair and a Montana cable company jacket on. He gave the Black Dog a cursory glance as he steadied himself on his feet then looked around at the hunters.

"You again!" he snarled, quickly regaining his composure.

"Thanin." Dean didn't pose it as a question.

"Dean Winchester." Neither did Thanin. The demon turned to Sam. "And the infamous Sam Winchester." He seemed completely oblivious to the fact he was trapped inside the summoning circle. The Black Dog was almost cowering behind him, pressing itself against the invisible force that was keeping it within the confines of the circle.

Sam pulled Ruby's knife out of his jeans and held it out in a threatening manner. Thanin simply looked at it and laughed. "Put that pigstick away, boy. That won't work on me."

"We'll see about that," Sam spat back, hating the way all demons seemed to know things about him he didn't. He stepped right up to the edge of the circle, about a foot away from Thanin.

"I should thank-you again boy for my first class ride topside. From what I hear, I arrived just in time to witness the glorious coming of My Lord. I have waited a long time for this."

"Ain't gonna happen," Dean snapped, handing Sam the bowl Bobby had laid out and drawing Aulenback's dagger from his own jeans.

Thanin was unruffled. "I will admit, I am impressed," he grudged, folding his arms across his chest. "I attempted to free Lucifer myself, many years ago. It is no easy feat, breaking that first seal. Unfortunately my plans were thwarted by the most contemptible form of creature imaginable - angels." The last word was spoken with undisguised hatred. "Traitorous sons of bitches, every last one."

"As opposed to demons, of course," Dean scoffed sarcastically, deftly hiding his partial agreement with the demon on the traitorous angels bit, remembering how they had turned on Anna not two months before.

Sam took advantage of the distracting banter and shot his hand out with Ruby's knife, slicing the arm of the man Thanin was possessing, cutting deep into the flesh as he grabbed Thanin by the wrist to hold his arm still. He quickly held out the bowl and managed to catch a good squirt of blood before the demon was able to pull back from the edge of the circle, the anger in his eyes slowly turning to suspicious curiosity.

The demon must have figured out that the Winchesters hadn't brought him here for a friendly chat for all of a sudden he moved himself to the center of the circle, took a deep breath, and raised his hands palms out. The very dim lights flickered and the hunters could hear steel clanging and banging throughout the room as a blast of what seemed to be nothing spread out from the circle, knocking Dean on his ass as it passed him.

Sam seemed unaffected. _Just like with Lillith._

The front door slammed shut and they could hear Bobby pounding on it a second later. Realizing the mechanic might not be able to get back in anytime soon, Sam decided to start the ritual to bind the stone to Thanin himself. He didn't want to keep the demon alive for any longer than necessary. He grasped at Jackson's book, flipping it open to the dog-eared page and quickly started following the instructions, taking mental stock of the assortment of objects Bobby had assembled.

"He's not supposed to be able to do this," Dean half-whispered in his ear as the wind picked up and loud creaks and groans of the heavy steel framework of the building shuddered and shook above them. Sam spared a brief, nervous glance towards the ceiling before kneeling down on the ground where Bobby had been sitting. He grabbed the charm he recognized as an African Bolingo charm, often used in binding spells, and dipped it in the bowl, submerging it completely in Thanin's blood.

"You know what you're doin' Sam?" Dean asked, an unconvinced waver in his voice.

"Yeah, Bobby and I went through it earlier," Sam assured him, grabbing for his lighter to ignite the pouch of powder the book had called for. After two flickers failed in the wind, Dean's hand appeared in front of his face offering his own lighted zippo. Sam absently smiled as he hovered the pouch over the flame, thinking briefly how miraculous that damn zippo of his brother's was. It had never failed Dean, not once, since the day Bobby had given it to him at sixteen years old. It was so much a part of Dean that Sam had buried it with his brother last year…

He snapped his attention back to what he was doing, tossing the flaming bag of powder into the bowl of blood and leaning back to avoid the spurt of red flames as he read the foreign text aloud. In his peripheral, he could see his brother, crouched low to the floor, trying to hold his ground against the strong wind that somehow wasn't affecting Sam.

Dean trusted Sam. Trusted his smarts, trusted his well-informed mind, trusted him to know what he was doing and not screw up the supposedly very complicated spell. What he didn't trust was that damn supernatural circle. The invisible wall that was the only thing existing between him and that damn big, vicious dog. At least the beast currently seemed more interested in putting as much distance between itself and Thanin than in having raw hunter for lunch.

Had he voiced those thoughts out loud he would soon be thinking he spoke too soon. Thanin abruptly gave up the wind-making routine and turned to the Black Dog, speaking in a language Dean didn't understand in a tone of absolute authority. The dog's yellow eyes narrowed farther, if that was even possible, but it seemed to be listening. It slowly moved around to the front of the circle, locking eyes with Dean, its upper lip curling back into its nasty snarl.

"Hurry up Sam," Dean breathed, getting a bad feeling in his gut. He could still hear Bobby pounding on the door though it sounded now like he was using a sledgehammer to break through, still with no success.

"I'm almost done" Sam acknowledged, not looking up. "I just have to put the medallion in the mix…" he pulled the medallion out of his pocket and dipped it in the bowl, flipping it over to completely coat it in blood, "…like this, and now we can kill…" He never finished his sentence.

Dean had watched Thanin standing with his eyes closed next to the dog, both utterly motionless for a few seconds before the demon's shoulders clenched and his hands slowly rose above his head, arms arched inwards as if summoning some unseen force. When he snapped them back downwards, nothing visible happened. But Dean knew, he somehow just knew, that that invisible wall between the hunters and the evil duo was gone.

_Thanin was free. That goddamn dog was free. _

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC...**_

_Next up... Chaos and a lot of hurt Winchester..._


	20. For Dean, He Would Cross Any Line

_Thanin was free. That goddamn dog was free. _

**Chapter 20**** – For Dean, He Would Cross Any Line**

Alex walked around the perimeter of the building again, carefully checking each salt line was intact. There were only four doors and a few small windows in the offices at the rear of the building to check so it didn't take very long. She couldn't check the lines on the second floor windows into the main room where the guys were since those were too high and had to be salted from one of the interior pedways.

Pressing her ear against the door, she overheard Bobby's voice reading loudly out of Jackson's book but very little else until an incredibly loud shriek sounded. Its pitch was so piercing Alex's hands flew to cover her ears as she jerked her head away from the door. Next she heard a shotgun blast with a couple more following in fairly quick succession. Frustrated that there were no low windows into the room that she could see in, she gripped the shotgun she had been issued tightly and aimed it at the door, her heart beating loudly in her chest with fear and worry for her friends inside. Something was definitely in there with them but she couldn't sense it, whatever it was, so there wasn't much she could do but wait.

No more than two minutes later, the door flew open and Bobby appeared, dashing past her towards the Impala. She stepped quickly out of his way before turning back to look inside, a stab of fear for the status of the Winchesters hitting her, but she saw them both standing in the middle of the room seemingly unhurt. She managed to let out half a breath of relief in before she noticed the huge, black, snarling wolf – or was it a dog? – a few feet in front of them. The door spring was pulling the metal door shut quickly and she instinctively reached out a hand to stop it from swinging all the way closed.

"Don't even think it!" came a sharp voice from behind her. Bobby hadn't even turned around as he raced towards the Impala's trunk. "Keep that door closed!" She had no idea how he had known what she was doing, but she jerked her hand back obediently, however reluctantly, and let the door snap shut.

She turned towards the mechanic who was now yanking open the trunk of Dean's car. "What was that thing?" she called out to him.

"Black Dog," was all he said as he grabbed something small from the supernatural weapons stash and stuffed it into his pocket, slamming the trunk shut and hurrying back towards the building.

_A Black Dog._ Alex had never come across one before and was surprised she hadn't sensed it. She had a way with dogs so she had always figured supernatural dogs would be extra perceptive to her mojo and vice versa. Of course, her mojo always had been unpredictable. Bobby reached her side and grabbed the door handle to rejoin the brothers but the door wouldn't open. He jiggled, twisted, and even pounded on the handle, shouldering the door as he did so, but to no avail.

"Check the other doors!" he barked to Alex, who quickly ran around the left side of the building to the closest other door. They had made sure they were all open before starting the ritual so there was no reason they should be locked now. No natural reason, anyway.

She found all possible entrances locked or blocked and completed the loop around the small factory, double-checking the salt lines as she did so. At least they were all still intact. She rounded the corner back to the front of the building to find Bobby hammering at the door with a tire iron. The indentations he was causing were miraculously smoothening back out a second or two after they were made. Alex found it quite eerie to watch. She grabbed a piece of iron bar from the ground and headed back around to try the same with the windows to the offices. Surely they would be smashable.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Dean watched in horror while the Black Dog's muscles rippled as it gathered its strength in its haunches to launch itself at his little brother. Sam was still on his knees on the concrete floor a few feet away, concentrating on the last of the spell and oblivious to the danger he was in.

Dean wanted to run, to get as far away from that Hellhound_…Black Dog, Black Dog, Black Dog, __**not**__ a Hellhound_…..as he could, to get to one of the offices and slam the door shut or climb up to one of the pedways above out of the dog's reach. Or at the very least to take the extra time to grab the second 9mm loaded with silver bullets that was somewhere in the duffel behind him to give himself some semblance of protection. Every instinct was screaming those instructions at him. Every instinct but one. That one stubborn piece of him that told him Sam was in danger won the argument hands down and Dean yelled in warning as he dove instantly towards the space between the beast and his brother.

"…like this, and now we can kill…" Sam was saying as he looked up, sensing movement in his peripheral. He was just in time to hear Dean call his name and see the dog leap towards him, its speed and bulk eliminating any possibility of him getting out of the way in time_. How had it crossed the line of the circle?_ He threw up his arm and braced for an impact that never came.

He felt rather than saw his brother's bulk hit the dog from the side, throwing its trajectory off by just enough to miss Sam. He could almost swear Dean's arms had wrapped around the dog's neck in what resembled a bear hug as his brother flew by before him. The pair of them hit the ground to Sam's right in a rolling mass of grunts and growls. Sam was on his feet in an instant, trying to swallow his shock and fear enough to find his voice.

"Dean!"

Dean didn't hear him. Somehow he had managed to come out of the flying, twisting interception on top but the dog definitely weighed more than he did and was having no trouble getting back on its feet. Dean rolled off quickly, springing almost catlike to his own feet and reaching for Aulenback's dagger. He drew it from his jacket and quickly lunged at the animal, hoping for the element of surprise.

Unfortunately, Dean's panther-like grace wasn't enough to match the speed and agility of the Black Dog. It dodged the jab, snarling back and snapping its enormous jaws shut a mere inch from the hunter's extended arm. Dean quickly adopted a defensive stance, blade held out before him, the stolen dagger now the only thing standing between him and reliving his worst nightmare. Well, his worst _living_ nightmare, anyway. Hell didn't count.

Sam took a step towards his brother, relieved to see him separate himself from the tangled mess of skin and fur relatively intact. He stopped, however, and spun around to catch Thanin raising his arm towards Dean. "No you don't!" Sam warned, extending his right arm towards the demon and deftly pocketing the medallion with his left. He concentrated on drawing on his inner energy, his double-edged gift from Yellow Eyes, and focusing it on the demon that had dared threaten his brother.

Sam felt the now-familiar surge as he expelled the raw power from his body towards Thanin but was not rewarded with any of the satisfying rush he usually derived from invisibly clutching the evil within the host, tearing it out, and forcing it back to Hell. His efforts seemed to be having little or no effect on the demon.

No, Sam realized, he was having an effect. The demon was jerking his arm at Dean but not receiving the desired outcome. Dean was not being tossed across the room or crushed against a wall and his head was not snapping around so quickly his skull came detached from his spine. Sam could feel quite clearly that those were Thanin's top three intentions. He tried to manifest a pool of power to hurl at Thanin all at once but again to no avail. Like with Bentley, all he seemed able to do was hold off the demon's attack, nothing more. Thanin was too powerful.

Dean didn't notice Sam's extended arm or the curl of his little brother's lip as he tried to focus his energy on the demon in the center of the room. He didn't notice that Thanin had stepped out of the circle and was presently glaring angrily at the younger Winchester. All Dean could see right now were the huge fangs dripping blood-red saliva on the floor in front of him. He badly wanted to see where Sam was, to check if he was okay, but he wasn't sure if he could risk the split second diversion of his attention.

He wasn't sure but he did it anyway. And in the half-instant that the hunter's eyes flicked towards Sam, the Black Dog lunged.

_We are each other's weakness…_

It leapt so high that by the time it reached Dean, the animal was on a downward arc. Dean's experience and training alerted him of the opportunity and in natural reflex, he pulled Aulenback's dagger in front of him, thrusting it upwards into the chest of the beast. It howled as it landed on him, knocking him to the ground like a freight train with claws. He struggled to get out from under the writhing mass of fur and had almost made it clear when it snapped its head around and sank its fangs deep into his shoulder.

He cried out in agony and surprise, grabbing at the dog's face, trying frantically to pry its jaws open to relieve the excruciating pain shooting through his body. It stood firmly over the hunter, ignoring his thrashing and kicking beneath its still-bleeding chest. Dean reached desperately for the dagger that had fallen to the floor a couple of feet away, slapping his free hand vainly on the ground, trying to get a visual on it through eyes that were bleary and tear-filled. Another scream of pain escaped him as the ferocious beast shook him like he was its new, favourite, man-sized chew toy.

Sam heard Dean's first scream, very definitely the sound he hated most in the world. He tore his eyes away from Thanin, straining to keep his concentration on the demon who had persisted in his attempt to use his mojo on Dean despite Sam's interference. What he saw horrified him and panic nearly collapsed his focus of power. Dean was underneath the Black Dog being shaken like a rag doll, its teeth embedded deeply in his bloodied shoulder. Sam could see the dagger lying just out of Dean's reach but judging by the bloody gash in the dog's chest, it had not proved to be a fatal weapon.

His brother needed his help. Now. That much was obvious. Keeping one arm aimed at Thanin, Sam reached around to the 9mm tucked in his waistband at the small of his back. It was loaded with silver bullets. Now if he could only keep Thanin at bay while he diverted enough attention to shoot the beast on top of Dean. He took a few wary steps towards his brother, keeping his eyes and focus on Thanin. He winced when another scream rang out, ripped from his suffering brother's lips as the beast threw its claws into the now one-sided fight by slicing its way down its prey's arm.

_Fuck this! _He had to chance it. There would be no Dean left to protect from Thanin if he didn't move on the dog now. He moved briskly the few steps it took to get a clear shot at the dog without the risk of hitting Dean and fired several times in rapid succession, not stopping until the blood-soaked fangs dropped his brother to the ground and the hairy beast scampered away towards the back of the room, howling in its anger and pain.

"Dean! Dean, you okay?" he asked, panic seeping into his voice as Dean lay slumped on the floor where the dog had left him.

Dean managed a groan and lifted a hand to acknowledge he was at least alive. Relief flooded over Sam and he quickly turned back to Thanin, thinking he would fire a few silver bullets at the demon out of spite since the gun was handy.

Thanin, however, had other plans. Sam's distraction had left a small window of unfocused power, made bigger when Sam's anger steered his attention to the useless weapon in his hands that he now held pointed at the demon. Thanin instantly took full advantage of this window, emitting a strong, deadly wave of demon mojo at Dean, who lay bloodying up the concrete floor.

"Sam!" Ruby cried in warning. "Don't let up!"

Sam snapped out of his rage but realized his mistake an instant too late. He dropped the 9mm and threw his hand back up at Thanin, trying desperately to focus enough to catch the surge of power the demon was discharging but Thanin was one step ahead of him. Sam watched in helpless horror as Dean was hurled across the room and slammed hard against the wall twenty feet away, his head bouncing off the brick surface with a sickening crack.

"No!" Sam screamed at the possessed cable company employee. "Your fight's with me! Leave him out of it! It's me you want!" Again his demon powers didn't seem to be having much effect on Thanin.

Thanin turned to Sam and laughed a cold, typical demon laugh. "Maybe I can't kill you," he taunted. "Maybe I don't even want to. But I _can_ kill your pathetic excuse for a brother."

With that he let another surge loose, sending Dean upwards towards the mess of steel beams and girders at the second level. Sam couldn't tell if his brother was conscious or not; his eyes appeared to be closed and there was blood trickling down his face as well as soaking his left shoulder and arm. Sam attempted to focus on intercepting the force aimed at his brother like he had earlier. It seemed Thanin had really put his back into this one and Sam found it difficult to intervene until he realized Dean was flying towards a sharp piece of steel protruding from one of the pedways. The sudden panic that tore through him funneled smoothly into his power and he threw his arm up towards his brother instead, effectively stopping him mid-air.

Any doubts that Dean was awake were removed as the elder hunter came to an abrupt halt. He let out an agonizing cry that ended in a gargled gasp for air, clutching at invisible sources of pressure on his chest and back, seemingly oblivious to the fact he was fifteen feet off the ground. Sam realized the struggle between him and Thanin was effectively crushing Dean and looked around for an alternative.

Ruby's knife. He had completed the ritual; all that was left was the part where they kill Thanin. The knife was still on the ground near the bowl of blood and other ingredients where Sam had been performing the ritual. He carefully manoeuvred himself the few feet towards it, bending his knees and wrapping his hand around its hilt while keeping his eyes darting back and forth between Thanin and Dean.

Thanin watched but simply laughed. Sam lunged at him, knife flashing forward in his weaker but still highly-skilled left hand. Thanin dodged the jab and the two ducked, weaved, lunged and jabbed around the circle for a few moments, each doing so with one arm still held high towards Dean.

"S'mmy." Dean's voice was barely audible, spoken as if he were lying with something the size of the Impala bearing on his chest.

Sam spared a quick glance upwards to check on his brother. Dean was inches away from the sharp, metal spike and was clumsily trying to push himself away from it, legs kicking in the air. Sam clenched his jaw and made a quick sidestep that ended with a jab of Ruby's knife, this time hitting his mark.

Thanin shrugged it off without faltering and nudged Sam's arm away, the blade making a sucking noise as it withdrew from the demon's shoulder.

Oh crap. Ruby's knife was useless on Thanin, just like it had been on Agramon.

Sam cursed as he moved swiftly towards Aulenback's dagger, tossing Ruby's knife to her in her Devil's Trap prison before bending down to retrieve the discarded dagger with the green stone in the hilt.

"Now really, Samuel," Thanin taunted. "What is the point? I think it's fair to say we're at a stalemate. What do you say you let me rid the world of this pathetic waste of space," he threw an extra shot of demon juice at Dean, slamming him forward a few inches so the metal spike was starting to pierce the hunter's skin, "and we can both go our separate ways like civilized beings."

"_Argg...fuck…hmph…Sam…jus' get…outuv…h're_," Dean managed before his body went limp and his head slumped forward on his chest, arms and legs dangling from his torso that was still suspended in mid-air.

Desperation entered Sam's fighting techniques. He was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on intercepting Thanin's mojo directed at Dean and physically fight at the same time. But the right motivation could do wonders and finally Sam lunged at Thanin, this time sinking the dagger into the demon's ribcage.

Again having no affect. A look of anguish and panic came over Sam's face as he realized he was going to lose this fight and in doing so, lose Dean.

_Again. _Lose Dean_ again. _Because he wasn't strong enough. First he had let Lillith and her hounds kill Dean and now he was letting Thanin do the same. His thoughts flashed to those weeks after Dean's death and panic gripped him tightly.

Whether it was fate or just a coincidence, his salvation came once again in the form of a petite, brunette demon. He heard her shouting and his head snapped around towards her, his mind trying to untangle its thoughts from the overwhelming fear that was drowning them and listen to her words.

"You know what to do, Sam! The blood! Sam, the blood!"

"What?" he looked confused.

"What we talked about in the woods at Marty's cabin, Sam! Do it!"

_Drink the blood_. Thanin's blood. In the bowl still sitting undisturbed on the ground behind him. She had said it would make him stronger.

_Amp up the dosage. Add more demon blood to the mix_. "No," he said automatically, shaking his head.

"It's the only way, Sam!" She was screaming now. "It's the only way you can beat Thanin! It's the only way you can beat Lillith!"

He was still shaking his head. A line he couldn't cross. Wouldn't cross.

"It's the only way you can save Dean!"

Except for Dean. For Dean he would cross any line. Ruby was right, there was no other way. If Sam let Thanin push his brother one more inch, the piece of steel would be piercing his lung and Sam could feel his strength waning. Thanin would win this fight... Dean would die...

He backed up the few steps and squatted down, discarding the dagger and picking up the bowl with his free hand. Thanin's eyes narrowed at him, the demon obviously not sure what Sam was up to and what the consequences of this action would be.

_We are each other's weakness…_

Sam was hesitating, looking down at the thick, red liquid swirling in the bowl. More demon blood. More of a freak. More evil, just like Alex had said.

"Sam!" Ruby's voice snapped him out of it. "Dean doesn't have much time! Do it!"

So he did. He tipped the bowl to his lips and drank, tentatively at first then more greedily, feeling some of it spilling around the edges and dribbling down his chin as he gulped.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

The windows wouldn't smash either. No matter how hard Alex struck them with the piece of iron, the metal simply bounced off the glass as if it was bulletproof. She gave up and ran back around the front to see if Bobby had any other ideas.

The mechanic had the tire iron wedged in the door jamb and was trying vainly to pry it open. As she reached him she heard several gunshots from inside the factory.

"That's a nine mil," Bobby thought out loud. "They must be firing at the bloody dog."

"Silver bullets," Alex said, nodding her head in realization. "Can silver bullets kill a Black Dog?"

She knew Bobby answered her because she could see his lips moving but she never actually heard his reply for at that very moment a painful chill started ripping through her brain. She gasped and pressed her palms against her temples, dropping the iron bar with a clang.

"What's wrong with you?" she heard Bobby asking when she was able to focus again.

"Sam," she croaked out before catching herself, remembering Bobby didn't know about Sam's ability.

"Hmph. He in trouble or is he using his mojo?" Bobby asked matter-of-factly, ignoring the fact that the girl seemed to be in pain. It wasn't that he was uncaring, Bobby's years of experience simply allowed him to shelf the sensitive shit until the immediate danger was over. There was also the fact that most of his experience with young people was with the Winchester boys who had an unusually high threshold for pain and very little need of molly-coddling.

The surprised look the girl gave him confirmed both his suspicions that Sam was indeed using his powers and that she had known about them. He shook his head, remembering for an instant the phone call from a devastated Dean the morning after he had caught Sam exorcising a demon with Ruby's help. He had hoped at some point Sam would come clean to him about it but so far, the kid had been tight-lipped on the subject to anyone but Dean. To Bobby, that fact simply all but confirmed the boy knew it was something bad, something wrong, because it was something he was ashamed of.

Of course, that truth was further substantiated by the fact that Alex and her demon-sensing mojo was picking up on the kid. The bad news was that if Sam was using his powers in front of Dean, it meant two things. One: Thanin was there, and two: things were desperate.

He went back to trying to force the door open, keeping a peripheral eye on the blonde standing next to him. Her face clearly showed signs of pain but she seemed to be coping. He didn't know any anti-demon power tactics to take the mojo off the door so he just kept his efforts focused on brute force with the tire iron.

He could hear Ruby yelling now, although he couldn't quite make out the words. Suddenly, Alex cried out and fell to her knees, clutching her head with both hands.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked worriedly, stopping his assault on the steel door. Then another thought struck him. "Is Sam okay?" he pressed, his fear for the youngest Winchester unhidden in his voice.

She wasn't able to answer him. She looked up at him briefly and her eyes screamed pain though the only sounds she made were a series of gasps and strangled cries. Bobby moved towards her, not sure what was going on when her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped backwards to the ground, knees still bent beneath her.

"God-dangit!" he breathed as he reached for her neck to find a pulse, his mind reeling about what this meant for Sam. It had to be Thanin that had done this to Alex for she sensed demons and his boy Sam was no demon but that meant Thanin was really strong. Surely stronger than Sam. The mechanic sent a silent prayer upwards that the circle would be able to contain the demon.

And that dog. Bobby shuddered as his memory threw back at him the look on Dean's face when the beast had appeared. A round with a Black Dog was the last thing that boy needed.

He sighed with relief when he found the unconscious girl's pulse. Bobby was a compassionate man and he hated to lose any human life, especially that of somebody he knew and was working with. If he was being honest though, part of his relief was for not having to tell the boys Alex was dead. It was clear they quite liked her and they had both dealt with more than their share of loss and guilt in recent years.

The older hunter got to his feet. If he really wanted to make sure the boys didn't suffer anymore loss, he needed to get inside. He wasn't going to have a front row seat again while either of them watched the other die. He'd done it twice, once each way, and that was more than enough. He grabbed at the door handle again and to his surprise, it opened.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC...**_

_So was Sam justified in taking that first drink of demon blood...? I'd love to hear your thoughts. Oh, and it's not over yet.._


	21. The Dickwad who Sliced Open my Shirt

_**Quick recap since I stopped mid-action**__: They are attempting the ritual to destroy the medallion but things went wrong and the black dog used Dean as a chew toy for a bit before Sam shot it and it scampered away. Thanin then tried to demon-fling Dean but Sam used his powers to intercede and Dean was stuck mid-air, being crushed between the two mojos tugging at him. Thanin was stronger and started to edge Dean forward onto a metal spike and Sam got desperate. Ruby yelled at him to drink the blood if he wanted to save Dean so he did. Meanwhile, Alex outside had been feeling mojo but suddenly just collapsed, out cold._

**Chapter 21**** - ****You the Dickwad who Sliced Open my Shirt?**

It tasted horrible. The first two sips almost induced Sam's gag reflex as he felt the thick, rank liquid trickle down his throat. As the few drops made their way farther into his body, however, the effects were almost instantaneous. An enticing warmth radiated through his insides like fire without the pain. It spread upwards around his heart, causing it to pump so hard and fast Sam feared it would burst. It spread downwards through his stomach and lower region and Sam almost gasped at the surge of excitement it delivered. The demon blood spawned a sensation of power and strength within him so tempting, so promising that the young hunter found himself tipping the bowl back and gulping the rest of the nectar down as fast as he could.

He was rewarded with what could only be described as an awakening throughout his entire body. Every nerve was tingling, aching to be given an order, and he felt acutely aware of each and every one. He had never experienced such completeness of control over every muscle of his body and every fragment of his psychic power. He felt vigorous. He felt strong. He felt unstoppable.

He turned his attention back to Thanin, who had been watching the hunter drink the bowl of blood with apprehension and worry. Sam recognized the very instant the demon knew he was outmatched for as soon as eye contact was made, Thanin's black ones flew open and he began to stammer.

"Please, Winchester," he pleaded. "I can help you. Your brother can live." He lowered his arm to his side and Sam barely noticed Dean dropping the twelve feet to the floor behind the terrified demon, landing in a heap on the concrete floor with a dull thud. "You don't want to do this," he rasped, taking a step backwards.

"Oh yes I do," Sam almost laughed, raising his arm towards the demon. No longer needed, he relinquished the small force he had been diverting to hold Dean off the metal spike and concentrated on drawing everything inside him to channel it towards Thanin. He was awed at how easily it came – no headache, no strain, no nosebleed – and how much of it there was to draw upon.

As he projected his focus to search out the evil within the doomed cable employee, he felt something else. A small, supernatural presence in his peripheral that seemed distinctly separate from Thanin. He hesitated for a second, marveling at how acute his energized senses were, but then Thanin's presence hit him, exposing his mind to its demonic essence. Thanin felt purely evil, dark and deadly. Anger and hatred filled Sam the second the connection was made and he lashed out, inflicting as much pain on his sick and twisted foe as he could. This son of a bitch had tried to kill Dean and for that, he would pay. Thanin fought back, throwing more demon mojo at Sam than even Agramon had. Sam tried not to smile as he managed to hold off the onslaught without breaking a sweat.

He made a grabbing motion with his hand, preparing to tear the demon out of the human in front of him but wavered when he heard Ruby yelling at him.

"No Sam! He has to die!" she screamed. "Don't exorcise him, kill him! KILL HIM!"

She was right. The ritual had called for Thanin to die so that the power of the stone be broken enough that a demon could remove it from the medallion and destroy it. He held Thanin's squirming mass of black smoke in his invisible grasp just within the man's body, trying to figure out what to do.

"Crush him!" Ruby ordered.

So Sam did. He envisioned the mass of evil being crushed to nothingness, squeezing his extended hand into a tight fist as he did so. He could feel rather than hear Thanin screaming as he fought against Sam's psychic restraint and failed, dying just as the grey-haired cable employee slumped to the ground, the life leaving both of them at the same time.

Sam lowered his hand and took a few deep breaths, relishing in how good that had felt and slowly pulling his awareness back to the physical world around him and out of the psychic one. He rubbed a sleeve across his mouth, wiping the drips of blood away and became aware of a sharp noise behind him.

He glanced around to see Bobby pushing the door open and running in, eyes wild as he looked around the room trying to decipher what had gone on and whether or not the brothers were both okay. The mechanic's eyes fell on the dead cable guy lying on the concrete floor a few feet from Sam.

"Thanin," Sam identified the body brusquely, his own eyes searching out his brother's still form. "He got loose; he's dead," was all he offered as means of an explanation. He moved towards Dean in long, swift strides, kneeling down next to him and rolling him over, his hand cradling his unconscious brother's head.

"Dean?" he said softly, checking for a pulse before tearing open his brother's t-shirt to get a better look at his wounds. He got no response from Dean but the stab wound from the metal spike didn't appear to be as deep as he had initially feared. He noticed Bobby suddenly sitting beside him and wordlessly pointed to the teeth puncture wounds in Dean's shoulder and the gashes on his arm for Bobby to inspect while he turned his attention to the source of the blood running down Dean's pale face.

"He'll be alright," Bobby surmised after a cursory evaluation. "He's seen worse."

Sam couldn't for the life of him figure out why that comment struck him as funny but he started to chuckle, possibly at the sheer absurdity of it or the casual manner in which Bobby had delivered it. "He's got a nasty bump on the head too," he added to Bobby's assessment. "We need to get him back to the motel."

A low growl drifted out of the shadows and both conscious hunters' heads snapped up.

"Shit, Bobby. I forgot, the Black Dog's still around. I shot him with silver but it didn't finish him off."

He heard Bobby's hissed disapproval of the oversight but the elder hunter was already crabbing over to retrieve Aulenback's dagger from the floor behind them. He skidded the 9mm with the silver bullets over to Sam while he pulled out rosary and holy water from his pockets and went to work blessing the dagger.

Sam crouched protectively over Dean, aiming the gun at the dark corner to which the hound had fled after Sam had shot it the first time. Once a Black Dog got a taste of a human's blood, it wouldn't be satisfied until it had finished that person off. They had been known to obsessively hunt the same human for years, never stopping until they had finished their meal. This bastard was probably eyeing Dean right now, drooling over its intended lunch.

As Bobby came back over to his side, Sam stood and practically snatched the dagger from the other hunter's hand, thrusting the 9mm back at him as he did so. Bobby glowered, not knowing whether to chastise Sam for his rudeness or the insulting implication that the more experienced hunter couldn't handle the Black Dog. He decided there wasn't the time for either and grudgingly took the pistol, taking up the protective stance over Dean and backing Sam up as the young man moved purposely towards the dark corner.

Sam could still feel his body buzzing with power and strength, primed and ready for a fight. He saw the large, black shape move behind some empty crates. As he came round them, yellow slits glared back at him and white fangs dripping with what could very well be Dean's blood became visible. Finding itself backed into a corner, the beast snarled and leapt at Sam, heading straight at his chest with a force that could probably bowl over a horse.

Sam deftly brought the now-blessed dagger in front of him, ramming it into the very same hole Dean had made just minutes before. As the weight of the animal struck him, he managed to stay on his feet, simply staggering a few steps backwards. He shoved back at the dead weight of the beast, watching with satisfaction as it fell to the floor, motionless. _Damn he was strong. Damn he felt good_.

"Impressive." Sam heard the skepticism mixed with the admiration in Bobby's voice.

"It was wounded already," he explained, downplaying the feat of possibly-inhuman strength Bobby had just been witness to. "Dean stabbed it and I shot it. It was pretty weak."

Bobby just nodded and turned his attention to Ruby, who was standing quietly in her Devil's Trap, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You ready to finish this thing?" he asked her, no politeness or gratitude evident in his voice.

She nodded and Bobby motioned to Sam, who fished around in his pocket for the medallion and handed both it and the dagger it over to her. She obediently followed her orders and went to work using the dagger to pry out the stone from the medallion. It popped out on the first try with minimal effort.

"Now smash the stone," Bobby ordered, hovering at the edge of the Devil's Trap with his distrusting hand wrapped around the flask of holy water hidden in his pocket.

"You know, when it's not in the medallion," Ruby stalled, "it's about as dangerous to angels as a knitting needle."

"Ruby, smash it," Sam ordered, his voice stern and full of impatience.

The demon scowled but she did as he commanded, holding the dagger by the blade and using Aulenback's piece of green stone in the hilt to smash the loose emerald. Again, it was surprisingly easy to do and one good hit crumbled it into dust.

She stood up. "Now can I get out of here?" she asked snidely.

Bobby was left the honour of scraping a slice across the chalked line of her trap as Sam had already turned his attention back to Dean and was gently picking his brother up. Bobby grabbed the duffel and hurriedly stuffed the discarded spell items and weaponry into it, snatching the dagger and empty medallion from Ruby as he did so. He beat Sam to the door, holding it open for him as the younger man's arms were full with his unconscious brother.

"Bobby!" Sam stopped short when he saw Alex lying unconscious on the ground just outside. "What happened?"

Bobby manoeuvred past him, shoving the duffel at Ruby to carry. "Sorry, I forgot," he admitted, bending down sheepishly to pick her up. "She's alive, she's just out is all." He grunted as he lifted, grumbling to himself about how glad he was that at least he was getting the lighter of the afternoon's two casualties. He wasn't as young as he used to be.

"What happened?" Sam asked again as he continued walking, his heart lurching in sudden fear and guilt as he remembered the small, peripheral presence he had felt while killing Thanin. That had to have been Alex and her mojo.

"Don't know," Bobby answered, following him to the Impala. "Damndest thing. She just grabbed her head and sorta keeled over. Dropped to the ground faster 'n shit from a gull. Must have been Thanin."

Sam swallowed. "Yeah, must have been," he agreed quickly. He wrapped his arm around Dean's chest, holding him upright as he dropped his brother's feet to the ground so he could free a hand to open the Impala's front passenger door. He slid Dean into the seat as gently as he could and stood up to find Bobby pushing Alex into the back seat, bending her knees up and giving her feet an extra nudge so he could close the door.

The older hunter straightened up and took a step towards the front door, peeking in at Dean's head as it rested on the passenger window glass. "He's had a rough week," he said gruffly, though the worry was clearly coming through.

"Yeah, well, it's gonna get worse before this Apocalypse is over so let's just get moving," Sam grumbled, earning himself a raised eyebrow from Bobby. Sam realized he had come of sounding cold but at that moment, he just wanted to get away from this place. The initial unadulterated thrill of the demon blood pumping through his veins and arteries was waning and he found himself starting to feel conflicted. Bobby was staring at him and he wanted nothing more right now than to get out from under the older man's scrutiny.

"Sam," Bobby ventured.

"Yeah?" Sam carefully kept his eyes averted under the guise of fumbling in his pocket for the car key.

"You okay?" Sam didn't answer because he knew it wasn't the real question. Bobby paused before continuing. "How'd you manage to kill Thanin anyway?"

That was the real question. "With Aulenback's dagger, Bobby," he lied. "You were right, it worked." He looked the older man square in the eyes as he spoke this time. After all, if there was one thing a Winchester was good at, it was lying.

Bobby seemed to grudgingly accept the answer and turned to grab the duffel back from Ruby. "Okay. Sam, you get those two back to the motel," he pointed to the Impala. "I'll clean up here and follow you back with the gal's Bronco."

Sam glanced at Ruby before getting in the driver's side of the Impala. Her returned look had been indecipherable but he was sure there was still a hint of a smile on her face. A smug, satisfied smile. She turned around and walked wordlessly away towards her own car.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

The drive back to the motel wasn't a long one but Sam found the relative calm after the chaos at the factory soothing. He was still feeling the effects of Thanin's blood, that extra measure of power and strength surging through him, but the accompanying confidence was quickly seeping away.

He glanced in the rear-view mirror at Alex, only able to see her knees as she was lying down on the leather seat. He was sure it had been her mojo he had felt when he had killed Thanin. That insignificant spec that he had brushed aside in his anger, rage and lust – for yes, he had thoroughly enjoyed killing the demon – had been a _person_. A friend even. He knew it had been her because he could still feel her now. That presence was still tingling in his head. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, in fact, quite the opposite. It was nothing like what she had described sensing from Sam when he used his powers at Marty's cabin. And that had just been when he was exorcizing, not killing. How evil must he have felt to her today?

_Jesus, what had he done?_ As if he wasn't freak enough! And the look Bobby had given him when he asked how Sam had killed Thanin... It wasn't a look of mere curiosity; it had been filled with apprehension and wariness. Did Bobby know? It wouldn't really surprise him if he did; after all, Dean seemed to rely on their friend and father figure for more than just intel these days. In fact, his brother seemed to confide in Bobby more than he did Sam.

But Bobby hadn't been the one able to kill Thanin. Sam hadn't just exorcised the threat, he had destroyed it for good. It had been him, _Sam Winchester_, that had saved Dean this time. Not Bobby, not Dad, and definitely not Castiel. He had done what he had to and he had saved Dean. He had killed Thanin. He would kill Lillith next. Yes, Sam would find Lillith, down a few mouthfuls of demon ruby-red, and obliterate the bitch. Game over.

He found himself changing his mind yet again, for the third time in as many minutes. He was already relishing the prospect of doing this again. Although he was still enjoying the feel of it, he was already craving the initial rush it had provided him with. The rush that would keep Dean safe, he told himself... almost convincingly.

And the best part of it all was that Dean and Bobby never needed to know about this. He could save them and everyone he cared about and prevent the Apocalypse without any more '_you're a freak' _sideways glances from Dean. They were quickly covered but Sam still noticed them.

He was starting to feel better about what had transpired when a groan escaped the elder Winchester and Dean's head slowly lulled from side to side in the shotgun seat.

"Dean?"

"Unhhhh," Dean croaked, his hand moving up to his head as his eyes blinked open. "My head hurts."

Sam chuckled, relieved to have Dean awake again. "Yeah, dude, you hit the wall pretty hard. You're gonna have a concussion for sure."

"Hmph," Dean griped, still fighting for full lucidity. "What happened?" he asked as soon as he realized he and Sam were in the Impala and away from the factory.

"Mission accomplished," Sam grinned. "Thanin's dead, that Black Dog's dead, and the medallion's destroyed."

Dean winced as he discovered his shoulder was hurting like a sonofabitch. "S'good," he murmured, closing his eyes and leaning his head back on the seat. "So Cas is safe."

Sam arched an eyebrow in surprise at Dean's voiced concern for the angel. All things considered, he hadn't thought protecting Castiel in particular had been the main reason for destroying the medallion. Apparently Dean had.

"Hey," he nudged his brother awake. "You need to stay awake, Dean. Concussion, remember? You gotta stay with me. Keep your eyes open."

Dean struggled to obey, forcing his eyelids up and straining to focus. "Yeah, yeah, I hear ya." He looked down at his bloodied shirt.

"Fuck, that bastard stabbed me," he griped, pressing his hand to the shallow stab-wound on his chest that the piece of metal had caused.

"Yeah, it's not too deep though," Sam acknowledged. "You haven't lost too much blood.

Dean glared at him. "You the dickwad who sliced open my shirt?"

Sam laughed. "Dude, it was already shredded by the dog. Don't blame me."

"Yeah, whatever. You owe me a new one." Dean twisted around uncomfortably, gently easing his injured arm up over the back of the front seat and reaching towards the back. "I got a pretty clean one in my duffel back here somewh…what the Hell? Lex? Lex!" He spun back around to Sam, eyes wide with near panic.

"What happened?" he demanded. "Is she…" His voice cracked and he let the sentence drop.

"Dean, she's fine. She just passed out is all," Sam assured him.

"Passed out?" Dean still looked worried, craning his neck around to get a better look at the unconscious girl in his back seat.

"Yeah, from Thanin," Sam lied easily. "Her mojo picked up on him. Knocked her out."

"She gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. She'll be fine." Sam said, hoping for both their sakes' that was the truth.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

It was still daylight when they reached the motel and the fellow patrons of the current fleapit were going about their business. Sam realized it was going to be difficult to get Dean and Alex inside without attracting attention. They waited until it seemed like nobody was paying any attention before Dean staggered his way to the door wearing Sam's not-so-bloody shirt over his very ripped and bloody one. Sam opened the Impala's rear door and leaned in, scooping up Alex under her knees and shoulders. He had almost reached the motel door where Dean was fumbling slightly with the key, no doubt from the blurred vision his concussion was giving him, when the adjacent motel door opened and a plump woman in her mid forties appeared. She looked back and forth between the brothers and her eyes narrowed, her mouth twisting into an accusing frown.

How were they going to explain carrying an unconscious girl into a motel room without looking like criminals or pervs? "Huh," Sam shrugged at her with a smile, "My wife, she, uh, can't hold her liquor."

Dean didn't need to be told to play along; it came as second nature. He turned partially towards the lady, not enough to reveal the blood streaks down the left side of his face, and let out a big hiccup. "Yup," he grinned, swaying quite convincingly and slurring his words. "My sister is a lightweight. Not like me."

Seemingly satisfied but obviously unimpressed with the explanation, the lady scowled and shuffled away across the lot. Dean rolled his eyes and opened the door, moving into the room quickly. "Wife," he snickered.

Sam ignored the remark, following close behind and turning sideways slightly to avoid bumping Alex's head on the door jamb. As he stepped over the threshold, he was hit with a flash of memory. A memory of carrying a very different blonde over a very different threshold.

_The last of the boxes was inside. It seemed there had been an awful lot of boxes and all but two had been Jessica's. He smiled as he thought about the one she had held on her lap on the drive over. _

"_What's so special in that one it warrants a front seat ride?" he had asked her curiously._

"_These are my extremely valuable possessions," she smiled back sweetly. _

"_Oh?" he teased, "You didn't tell me I'm moving in with a rich girl."_

"_I am rich. Wanna see?" Sam had simply nodded. It had been over a year since he had met Jessica Moore and he was still mesmerized by her._

_She opened the box and started fishing around inside it, pulling out a chewed up rag doll._

"_What's that?" Sam asked skeptically, thinking how __**un**__-valuable it looked._

"_This is Winnie," she informed him. "When I was little, I never went anywhere without her and when my sister got leukemia, I gave her Winnie to cheer her up. She promised she would give her back when she got better so I keep her to remind me that my sister got better."_

_Sam thought briefly of Dean. He always did whenever anyone mentioned a sibling, even though he hadn't seen him in almost two years and hadn't spoken to him in over a year. He wished he had taken something to remind him of his brother but he had left under such bad circumstances in the midst of so many angry words between him and his father that Dean had somehow been forgotten in the heat of the moment._

_Next she pulled out a pressed flower. "From your grandfather's field?" Sam ventured a guess._

_She smiled, her blue-gray eyes sparkling at him. "Yeah. See, we're so destined for each other."_

_He reached over as he drove the borrowed van and gently placed his hand on her knee. Yep, if he had a destiny, he definitely wanted her to be it._

"_Oh, this is one of my favourites," she smiled fondly as she pulled out a tiny, colourful, paper umbrella. _

"_A drink umbrella?" he laughed, squeezing her knee lovingly. "Do I even want to know?"_

_She gave him a feigned look of disapproval. "Well you should know," she accused. "It's yours."_

"_Mine?"_

"_Yeah, from that girly drink you ordered on our first date."_

_Sam blushed furiously. He had taken her to a fine-dining restaurant just outside of Paolo Alto, it coming highly recommended from Luis and there being little chance of running into any of her numerous friends there. It had taken him a good two months to get up the nerve to ask her out and another month to catch her alone. He had ordered his favourite drink without thinking, too nervous about getting carded in front of her to worry about whether or not it was considered a manly one. The campus bar served them rather plainly, so when the pink drink with the umbrella showed up at the table, he had been mortified. She really did try not to laugh at his embarrassment but his face was so red he couldn't blame her when she did. But somehow she wasn't laughing at him. She had so effortlessly turned it into laughing __**with**__ him that by the end of the meal, his jitters and awkwardness were gone and he found himself falling head over heels in love for the first time in his life. _

"_You kept that?" He was genuinely surprised._

"_Well of course," she smiled, placing it carefully back in the box. "That was the most important day of my life. The day everything changed."_

_He leaned over to kiss her but she squealed and turned his face back towards the road with a hand on his chin. "It's against the law to kiss and drive, you know," she laughed._

_Now Sam was standing outside his new place, their new home together, and he finally believed it was real. This normal, wonderful life he had etched out for himself was real and it was going to work. His dad and Dean seemed farther and farther away every day. For the first time since he had left them, he found himself running towards a future and not away from his past. He slammed the trunk closed with a thud of finality and felt small, soft arms wrapping themselves around his waist. He turned towards Jess, whose whole face was beaming with contagious contentment. She took his hand and headed up the steps towards their apartment door._

"_Wait, wait," Sam laughed as they reached the threshold. He bent down and scooped her up in his arms, eliciting a delightful squeal from her as he did so. "This is an important event," he told her. "I want to do it properly."_

"_You're such a romantic at heart, Sam, you know that?"_

He shook his head, bringing his thought back to his very different present situation. Why the influx of thoughts of Jessica these days? Was his subconscious trying to tell him something? Trying to convince him he wanted that normal life again? Trying to fool him into believing he could actually have it? It was as if karma or fate was making one last ditch effort to save him from the path he was on.

He didn't need saving. He had just saved Dean. The old Sam from that memory hadn't been able to save Jessica. This was the right path.

However, a lingering twinge of doubt ran through him as he lowered Alex onto the closest bed, avoiding eye contact with his brother in an effort to hide the guilt he was feeling. Dean wasn't saying much about Alex but still carried a worried expression glancing over in her direction every few seconds.

"Dude, let me look at your shoulder," Sam ordered, reaching in his duffel for John Winchester's old marine field medic kit that had seen far too many uses over the years.

He had barely finished cleaning Dean's shoulder and chest when Bobby walked in, tossing the Bronco keys on the table.

"Ah, good, Nurse Bobby," Dean quipped. "I need a couple of stitches in this love bite on my shoulder here and Samantha always makes them too big. Care to take over?"

"Don't be such a big baby," Sam huffed at the jab. "In case you haven't noticed, I've been stitching up my own cuts since I was seventeen. You're the ungrateful pansy who always gets someone to do it for you and then complains about the workmanship."

Bobby rolled his eyes at the familiar bickering and took the needle from Sam. If truth be told, he was tired of stitching up these boys. Especially Dean.

Dean's face tensed slightly at the word 'pansy' but Sam didn't notice. The younger Winchester filled the others in on his version of everything that had gone down in the factory, trusting that Ruby would back up his bending of the truth.

As Bobby worked, Dean pulled out his flask of whiskey and downed a few mouthfuls, shoving it back in his duffel when he was done. Sam refrained from saying anything. He had given up nagging his brother about the drinking since Dean's revelation about Hell. It seemed heartless and mean to take away any small comfort the drink provided his brother with after all he had suffered. As if future AA meetings were Dean's biggest worry right now.

Actually, Sam realized, Dean hadn't been too heavy on the drinking this past week. It wasn't that he hadn't seen him pull out that Mary-Poppins flask that never seemed to run empty; it still made an appearance every time Dean scarcely survived another round with a demon which, if Sam was counting accurately, was five times in as many days. But during those brief periods in between, Dean seemed more at peace. Happier, even. Sam had heard the sound of Dean's laugh more times this week than in the full month beforehand. He followed Dean's eyes to the blonde on the other bed. It was her influence, he thought. Maybe Dean stood a chance at getting over Hell after all.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC...**_

_Just a few more chapters to this story but a lot happens, including a twist or two I think you'll never see coming. I remember thinking when I watched On the Head of a Pin and we first found out that Sam had been drinking demon blood that there must have been something desperate happen to make him cross that line and this story was what I came up with. There is a part 3 to it, which takes place a few months down the road again just after Josh gets out of prison. I know Josh wasn't in this one much but he is the one who gets dragged into the Winchesters' Apocalypse-fight in the next story. There is more action, more angst, more guest stars from the show, the pace is faster, and both the stakes and the bodycount are way higher in the third story of this season 4 series so I hope you'll all stick around for that one too._


	22. I've Got Demons Comin' Out of My Ass!

**Chapter 22**** - ****I've Got Demons Comin' Out of My Ass!**

"Shouldn't she be awake by now, Sam?" Dean fretted. "It's been over three hours."

Sam sighed as he watched his brother move to stand over Alex for the tenth time in the past half hour. "I don't know what else to tell you Dean. I'm sure she's fine. She'll wake up when she's ready."

"Another half hour and we're taking her to the friggin' hospital."

Sam shrugged. He had explained vaguely how he knew that she would be okay without disclosing that he had been the one who had knocked her out to start with. Dean hadn't pressed for the psychic details, which didn't surprise Sam since Dean absolutely loathed the subject of Sam's powers under any circumstances, even these. His brother had never asked for particulars about how Sam's abilities worked, what it felt like, how he controlled it. Not once. One would think curiosity would have eventually got the best of him, but no, Dean was still ruled by his close-minded hatred and fear of anything demon.

He wished Bobby was still here to keep Dean occupied but the older hunter had headed off to his room to catch-up on some much needed sleep after having driven Pamela around for the better part of two nights. Sam didn't dare suggest Dean do the same because his brother had taken a hard smack to the head and was definitely suffering from a mild concussion. Dean hadn't thrown up for about two hours but Sam would prefer he stay awake for a couple more just to be sure. Sam had learned to never trust Dean's '_I'm fine's._

"We shouldn't have had her there to start with," Dean said for at least the fifth time, still looking down at Alex with a frown on his face, arms folded across his chest.

Sam sighed. "Dude, for the last time, she knew the risks. She's a hunter. Well, sort of anyway. Her future's at stake too, you know, if Lucifer comes topside. It was her choice."

Watching how upset Dean was, Sam's guilt meter spiked and he was definitely regretting all the matchmaking he had been doing over the past week. He decided Bobby had been right, as usual. Alex was just plain too much trouble for Dean right now in his somewhat fragile mental state. The girl herself had claimed she wasn't likely to live to see thirty and with the ever increasing number of demons walking topside these days, Sam was inclined to believe her. She would need a whole garrison of angels on twenty-four seven protection detail to stay completely safe. She simply attracted too much supernatural attention for any hunter to be able to keep her alive indefinitely. It was really just a matter of time, he resigned. The last thing Dean needed was to set himself up for what was an inevitable heartache down the road.

"You know," Dean smiled and turned slightly towards his brother. "This is probably the longest we've been around her without her either talking or singing."

Sam laughed but the guilt prevented any mirth from actually reaching his eyes. "Yeah, she's unique alright," he agreed with a friendly eye roll.

"Cas did say most people who can see his 'true visage' are crazy," Dean joked.

"Really?" Sam found that interesting. Did that mean the insane dudes that stand on the New York subway ramps spouting religious doomsday rhetoric could see Castiel's freakin' halo and the Winchesters couldn't?

"She should be awake by now," Dean repeated. Sam huffed in frustration and stood up, snatching the Impala keys from the table.

"Where you goin'?" Dean demanded.

"I need some air," Sam said honestly. Sitting in the room looking at the damage he'd caused in his somewhat ruthless determination to kill Thanin was stifling. "I'll pick up some supper on my way back 'cause you need to eat something, dude. And Dean…"

"Yeah, yeah," Dean dismissed him with a wave of the hand. "I'll stay awake."

Sam nodded, not in the least surprised his brother had known exactly what he had been going to say. If there was one thing the Winchesters knew too well, it was concussions.

His brother gone, Dean hovered for another minute before sitting himself on the bed next to Alex, feeling her forehead to be sure she wasn't spiking a fever. He still had a massive headache himself, but a concussion he could deal with. Cuts and bruises, he could deal with. Broken bones and sprained ankles, he could deal with. It was this psychic thing that had him worried. He didn't understand what Thanin had done to her so he had no idea what to expect or how to help her.

"Wake up," he pleaded in a half-whisper, partially expecting her to open her eyes. She didn't stir. "You know, he joked more loudly, "if this is your ploy to get me to sing to you, it's not gonna work." He remembered coming to after a night of poisoned delirium in the woods in Indiana last year to find Alex holding his hand and singing quietly to him. She had been incredibly embarrassed when he awoke and caught her in the act but he had appreciated the comfort at the time and still held onto the memory with a certain fondness.

He pushed a stray lock of hair away from across her closed eyes and studied her face. She was certainly beautiful. Dean had known more than his share of good-looking women in his lifetime and had naturally noticed Alex's attractive physical features the first time he had laid eyes on her, as he did with all hot chicks. But looking at her now he admitted to himself she was different from his countless hot one-night-stands or his many appreciative damsels-in-distress. There were only a handful of women that had made it past the_ 'thanks for the good time – maybe I'll call you sometime_' phase of Dean Winchester female interaction and it never seemed to end well with those that did.

Of course the thing that surprised him the most was that he hadn't even slept with this one. Damn, he hadn't even kissed her.

She didn't react at all to his touch, a stinging reminder that she wasn't just sleeping. At least she looked peaceful, he assured himself though her current state contradicted every vision and impression he had of her. She was usually this breathtaking ball of blue-eyed energy, vibrant and uplifting, a breath of fresh air that made his heart skip every time she entered the room. To see her so still was unsettling.

"Dean."

Dean jerked to his feet in lightning quick reaction to the voice behind him, his hunter's instincts directing his hand back towards the Glock tucked in his jeans' waistline.

"Shit, Cas," he snapped when he saw the angel standing a few feet away. "You really need to learn how to knock."

"Did you destroy the medallion?" The angel ignored Dean's rebuke. Apparently celestial business matters trumped good manners.

"Yeah, yeah, it's toast." He glanced around at Alex then back at Cas. "Can you fix her, Cas?" he asked urgently.

Cas paused before answering, managing to actually sound apologetic as he did so. "It doesn't work that way," he said. "I cannot simply heal people."

"Why not?" he demanded. "You healed me when you brought me back from Hell."

"I did not do that alone. And the circumstances were different. It's…complicated. Physical wounds are… the rules are complicated."

"That's okay then because she's not physically wounded. It's all up here." Dean tapped his temple to demonstrate his point to the angel.

Castiel's brow creased slightly in question so Dean explained further. "Thanin used his mind mojo on her and knocked her out. That was over three hours ago. Please Cas, there's gotta be something you can do. At least check on her, make sure she's still in there."

Cas continued to stare fixedly at Dean for a second before sighing and stepping forward to the bedside. He placed his palm lightly on Alex's forehead and stood still for a moment, looking intently at the unconscious girl before stepping back to address the anxious hunter.

"She will be fine."

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. He trusted Cas, at least in this matter. If the angel said she would be fine, then for some reason he knew she would be. "That's good to know," he said, grateful for once to have Castiel around. "I've caused her so much trouble this week, Cas," he said hoarsely, surprising even himself at his open admission of guilt.

"This is all Lillith's doing, Dean," the angel replied frankly.

"Lillith sent Agramon after us," the hunter argued. "After Sam and Me. Lex shouldn't have been there. And Thanin possessed her yesterday then whammied her again today. Then there's the friggin' Chinababies, whatever the Hell they are, coming after her. Some demon put them on his payroll to kill her; you can't say that's not because I got her mixed up in all of this."

Cas's blue eyes flickered away from Dean for a second, hiding the guilt Dean would be surprised the angel was even feeling. "There are no demons after her, Dean," he assured his charge. He could not reveal that Uriel had sent the Chinabas after Alex simply to test Ruby's loyalty to the Winchesters. "I cannot tell you… particulars, but I can assure you that the one who sent the Chinabas after Alexis…Alex…will not be bothering her again."

Again, Dean believed him. After all, it had been Cas that had saved Alex and Ruby in the alley, a fact Alex had brought up on more than one occasion. Clearly, Cas had finally stepped up and wasted the demon responsible. "Thanks," Dean said solemnly. "I really don't need anyone else dying on my conscience." It felt good to be having a comfortable, honest, even if slightly emo conversation with the angel. For once, the hunter felt no urge to throw a wisecrack at him or be his usual defiant, obstinate self.

Too good to last, of course. "Now Dean," Cas said sternly, shifting the tone of the conversation. "About the medallion." The amiable air in the room was sucked out and instantly replaced with the usual mix of tension and vague distrust. "Were you successful in destroying it completely?"

"Yeah, the stone's dust," Dean snapped back. "And you're welcome, by the way."

"I would thank you had you obeyed orders," Cas threw back at him. "This time you were lucky. You must learn to trust us, Dean."

"Trust you? Are you serious? You tell me to go get a medallion from a friggin' priest and the next thing I know I've got demons comin' out of my ass!" Dean accused hotly. "How'd they even know where the medallion was, anyway?"

Castiel ignored the outburst and simply gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. "That I do not know. Nobody knew who had the medallion."

Dean snorted. "Well the demons were at Brian's house when we got there, Cas, so some winged fuck in your camp's been squealing."

Cas pursed his lips. "There was only myself and Uriel who knew which family was entrusted to safekeep the medallion," he said with more than a hint of annoyance at the accusation. "I can assure you, neither of us have ever divulged this information." His brows furrowed slightly and his head tipped as a thought occurred to him. "The only other who knew was Anna. The task of hiding the weapon centuries ago fell to the three of us."

Dean growled. "Anna didn't rat."

"No," Cas said evenly, tilting his head in thoughtful agreement. "I do not believe she did. At least, not intentionally."

"My money's on your wannabe-funnyman partner, Urinal," Dean snapped, looking up to find Cas gone. _Goddamnit, that was annoying._

Dean knew Anna would never have divulged the location of the medallion. Even though she had her differences with the celestial authorities, she did not want Lucifer set free and would never have endangered Dean and Sam. He also believed it hadn't been Castiel. That dude was way too angel-boyscout to have ratted. Friggin' poster boy for following orders.

Uriel was a different matter. He clearly hated both Winchesters even more than he did the rest of the humans on the planet. It was true that Cas had also been willing to kill Anna as ordered but Uriel was the only one who would have taken pleasure in doing it.

He turned his attention back to Alex, wondering suddenly how he had managed to let himself get attached to yet another girl with a death sentence. Maybe Pamela had been right; he was hopeless. He sat back down on the edge of the mattress next to her, pulling one knee up onto the bed so he was facing her and sighed, part of him glad she would be going her own way in the morning - away from the Winchesters. If she ever woke up that was, he thought grimly.

As if on cue, she did just that. He felt her stir and watched her eyes flutter open and slowly focus on his. She smiled.

And there they were. Those sparkling blue eyes that seemed to make the world a better place by just being open and that smile that automatically tugged at the corners of his mouth to reciprocate. "Hey there Sunshine," he greeted her softly, cursing himself for the feelings coursing through him at this moment.

"Hey," she croaked back at him, wincing and closing her eyes again for a brief second. "What happened?"

She surprised him then by lifting her hand a few inches and placing it over his, which had been resting on his knee, gently curling her fingers up under his palm. He rotated his hand upwards and returned the timid hold with a small, reassuring squeeze.

"Thanin gave you a good dose of demon mind mojo," he explained. "Bobby says you passed out."

Alex tried to recall what had transpired. She remembered vaguely sensing Sam using his powers... at least she had thought it had been Sam... then something else, a sharp blinding pain, then nothing. She guessed Thanin must have lashed back at Sam and she had been caught in the crossfire but she couldn't be sure. God she hated her troublesome, freak, psychic thing. It very rarely did any good and almost never came in handy in helping to save somebody. Her head was pounding and her gut twisted in a knot at the thought of being such a weak pawn in some evil creature's game again.

She appeared to be mulling Dean's answer over so he sat still for a few seconds, patiently letting her wake up fully and process. Finally he stirred, figuring she would need a drink. "You want some water?" he asked, pulling away as he reached for the bottle on the nightstand.

"No," she answered in a whisper, her grip on his hand tightening as he started to move away. "Stay."

He settled back down next to her, perfectly content to sit and hold her hand if that was what she needed. She seemed unusually vulnerable to him at this moment; it was clear her carefully guarded emotional walls were down and he felt a surge of protectiveness come over him.

He was surprised then by the wave of jealousy that hit him; strangely enough it was jealousy towards Josh. It was Josh's job as her big brother to look after Alex and watch out for her. Dean could understand and accept that more than anyone. It occurred to him that she would _always_ need looking after. No matter how tough and independent she may be, she could never do it alone. She would always need someone to help protect her, fight with her and for her, save her from the never-ending attention of things that go bump. Sam, on the other hand, didn't seem to need Dean much anymore; it was almost as if the kid had outgrown the need for a big brother. Dean had outlived his usefulness in that regard, lost his single most important purpose for being. Unlike Dean, Josh would always have his little sibling's love and unconditional faith in him. Josh would always be needed.

"Did you destroy the medallion?" Alex asked him finally, snapping him out of his melancholy train of thought and bout of self-pity.

"Yeah," he smiled. "And Thanin."

She nodded in acknowledgement then winced again, scrunching up her forehead and releasing his hand to rub her temples. "Okay, what do you have in your bag of goodies for a headache?" she asked, trying to sound casual as she struggled to re-fortify her façade after her embarrassingly needy moment of hand-holding.

Dean laughed, leaning over to rake through the Winchesters' medic kit on the bedside table. "Oh we got the good stuff, don't you worry," he grinned, handing her two white pills and the bottle of water. She downed them without bothering to check what they were, trusting Dean's judgment and extensive experience.

"How long have I been out?"

"A while now," he answered vaguely. "Sam went to get supper. Bobby's having a nap." He rolled his eyes in pretend mockery of the older mechanic. "And Cas stopped by to give us our report card. Seems we only got a D-minus. See, you lose points for thinking for yourself in angel school."

That last one got her attention. "Oh, I missed Cas?" she asked, sounding genuinely disappointed and completely ignoring the disparaging remark Dean had made about angels.

Dean snorted and shook his head. "You know," he teased, "the way you gush over him, you're kinda making me jealous."

She smiled back at him, pushing herself up to a sitting position, her back resting against the headboard. "Cas has nothing on you Dean," she said seriously.

She had spoken the words with no sarcasm to hint she was joking and no suggestive tone to indicate she was flirting and, not for the first time, Dean found her hard to read. She surely couldn't have meant what she had said. It was obvious the angel pretty much walked on water in her eyes with his freakin' 'glowy goodness' and all. Dean couldn't compare to that. But damn, didn't he find himself almost believing her when she said things like that with so much conviction.

He wasn't given a chance to figure it out before she joked it off. "Well, I wouldn't want to come between you and Cas anyway, you two being such a cute couple and all," she jested.

"Ha ha," Dean answered. "He's not really my type. Too broody."

"Na, you're right," she grinned. "He's probably more Sam's type. Same aversion to hairdressers and combs."

Dean laughed just as Bobby walked in through the door, neglecting to knock as usual. "Speaking of no need for a comb," Dean quipped, standing up and giving the elder hunter a cheeky grin, impervious to the scowl he received in return.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

"Well?" Uriel demanded, ignoring the disapproving look Castiel gave him at the lack of respect for Cas's authority in his tone.

"Yes. Dean and Sam destroyed the medallion."

Uriel looked slightly surprised. "Didn't think the boy had it in him."

"I think we will all be surprised by what Dean Winchester is capable of given the right motivation," Cas replied, fairly certain Uriel had been referring to Dean and not the younger Winchester. Sam rarely received the courtesy of being called 'the boy' anymore as Uriel had taken to using far more condescending monikers.

Uriel snorted. "Doesn't change the fact that he disobeyed orders in the first place, Castiel."

"No, but it is to our advantage that he did, isn't it? The medallion has been a grave threat to us for two thousand years. It is no longer so."

"My brother, are you saying the orders were wrong?" Uriel shook his head. "If I recall, it was not that long ago that you chastised me for implying the very same thing." He paused, staring intently at his brother. "You are becoming too enamored by the man; I fear for your judgment."

Cas gave him a stern look and his tone became harsher. "I know where my loyalties lie, Uriel. I see the flaws in Dean but I also trust that our Father chose him for a reason and I have faith in that decision. As should you."

Uriel backed down with a disapproving hiss, not bothering to point out that it was actually Lillith that had chosen Dean to be the Righteous Man by putting him on that rack. Lillith and Fate. "What about the girl?" he asked, effectively changing the subject. "Will she make a suitable vessel?"

Cas pursed his lips and remained silent for a moment. He had seen all he needed to when Dean had asked him to check on Alexis Brenton. "She would not be desirable," he said carefully. It was the closest Cas had ever come to telling a lie to one of his brethren. "She lacks the faith that facilitates a harmonious merge. Her highest loyalty will always lie with the humans she loves, not with our Father."

Cas looked away as he spoke, hearing Uriel cluck his obvious disapproval of the human's priorities. It had not been an outright lie for there was some truth to the words he had spoken. When he had placed his hand on the girl's forehead, he had seen that her love for those close to her, mostly her brother, would always come before any obligation or desire to serve God and a greater purpose. Much like Dean, there was no greater purpose than those she loved. In fact, her faith and belief in God were even less profound than that which he saw in Dean, which could be considered tenuous at best.

Despite all this, however, the truth was she would likely have made an adequate vessel. Not desirable, but adequate. Castiel justified his… exaggeration?… because it was indeed more difficult to co-habitate when the vessel was not completely devoted to the cause. Jimmy Novak had been more than willing, eager in fact, to turn his life over to serve the Lord but already Cas could sense the man's resolve and faith faltering within him.

If he was being completely honest, however, the real reason Cas had found himself discounting her for possible recruitment was Dean. Dean had never really asked him for anything and, although the words had not been spoken directly, the angel had seen the extent of feeling the hunter had for the girl and knew he would not be pleased should she be wooed to host an angel and walk the frontlines of this war. He had decided Dean's loyalty was far too important to risk for the sake of one mediocre vessel. He tried not to think about whether it was Dean's trust in Heaven's Army or in Castiel personally that would be the more undesirable loss.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Sam sat at the motel table, face glued to his laptop. They would be moving on in the morning but didn't have a new hunt lined up yet. He knew Dean would want to keep busy so he wanted to find a destination before they ended up hitting the road aimlessly. The reason behind Sam's desire to please his brother was, however, purely self-serving as Dean got cranky and sour when he got bored and Sam would go to great lengths to avoid that scenario. He had found a possible demonic possession case in Fairfax, Indiana at one of their old high schools but there wasn't a lot to go on.

Then there had been... that other thing he had come across almost entirely by accident. Reading the article he had found online triggered a vague thought that had been nagging at him since this afternoon but he still couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He huffed in frustration as he tapped away at his keyboard, typing '_ritual killing 2009_' into the search engine. He heard a chuckle and looked up to find Alex grinning from where she sat cross-legged on his bed. Dean had finally fallen asleep on the other bed, lying on his back on top of the covers and still wearing his t-shirt and jeans.

"You get this really intense look when you type," she teased quietly, making an exaggerated scowling face and jabbing her fingers in the air to demonstrate her point.

He smiled back, not minding the tease. Dean had poked fun at him for years about his 'computer face'. "Yeah, I'm not having much luck finding another hunt."

"Oh poor you," she said with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. "You may actually have to take a day off. I tell you what, I'll just call in a tip whenever I get a whiff of one." She tapped her forehead to indicate how exactly she usually 'got a whiff'. "I can probably throw you one a week these days."

Sam couldn't help but think that being able to find a hunt or a supernatural wrong-doer just by driving by the right place could actually be quite an advantage. At least for a seasoned, trained hunter like him. He obviously wouldn't be so keen on the reverse part, where the bad things could sense him in return, but even so, he was powerful enough now to fight back whenever one did. Alex's mojo could have been quite a gift had it been given to the right person. Not wanting to offend her, he naturally kept his thoughts on the matter to himself.

"You can call us anytime, you know," he said seriously to the girl, holding her gaze to drive his point home. She would be leaving in the morning also, heading first to Texas to pick up the new ID's Josh's old friend had forged, then on to Nashville. "If you sense something, call. If we're not close, Bobby'll come and help you." The offer was genuine.

"I'm sure I'll be fine," she gave the offer a wave of dismissal. "But thanks," she added sincerely. "That's nice to know."

"Don't mention it. What good is it being a hunter if you can't help out your friends with their monster problems?"

"Hmmm," she said, a nostalgic look on her face. "Isaac used to say that exact thing all the time."

Sam noticed a hint of sadness to her comment. Isaac and Tamara had stayed with Josh and Alex a few years ago for a while, waiting around for Red-Eyes to show up so they could take a crack at killing him and Alex had apparently grown quite fond of them.

_Tamara and Isaac_. Sam suddenly figured out what had been nagging at him all afternoon. He glanced up at Alex but she had returned her attention to her iPod and her book, the latest in the Twilight series. He stood up and started to root through his duffel. Finding what he was looking for, he slipped it into his pocket and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair.

She looked up questioningly. It was past eleven o'clock. When she had instructed him to let her know when he was ready for sleep so she could give him his bed back and return to her own room, he had insisted he wasn't even remotely tired. But where the heck was he going at this time of night?

Reaching for his laptop he glanced over at her and Dean in turn. "Uh, the friggin' dial-up internet connection keeps cutting off," he lied. "That waitress at the diner said I could use the wireless there if I wanted."

"Okay," she shrugged, letting him know he certainly didn't have to ask her permission to go anywhere but curious why he felt the need to lie about it. Probably had to do with Ruby. She debated offering him her room key if he wanted privacy but dismissed the thought quickly. Not only would that be crass, but Alex didn't want to encourage any lasting thing between Ruby and Sam. As pathetic as it may sound having only known him a short time, the Winchesters were currently two of her closest friends. Ruby may be pretty and she may have helped them out this week but she was still a demon and a charming, good-looking guy like Sam could do so much better.

He glanced over at Dean, still sleeping soundly and his brow creased in concern. "Can you keep an eye on him?" he asked her. "It's just that he banged his head and…"

"No problem, Sam," she assured him. "I promise not to smother him if he snores."

"'Kay, thanks," he said, striding quickly to the door and shutting it quietly behind him. The night air outside was cool but not bad considering it was January. He walked quickly down the row of motel doors but didn't head off towards the diner when he reached the end. Instead he knocked gently on the last green door in the row.

It took a minute for the occupant to answer. Finally the door opened and a middle-aged, stocky man wearing a plaid shirt, red long-johns and a scowl barked a gruff greeting at him. "What is it Sam?"

"I think we may have a problem, Bobby."

_**SPN-SPN-SPN**_

_Next chap... Will Alex and Dean finally fess-up? What has Sam discovered?_


	23. Nothing Else Matters

_I'm nervous about the reaction to this chapter - let me know what you think but please don't kill me... _

**Chapter 24 - Nothing Else Matters**

It was almost one o'clock in the morning and Sam still hadn't returned. Alex knew he was more than capable of taking care of himself but she couldn't help worrying a little. These two brothers had the worst of the worst clambering to be the lucky S.O.B. who got to finish them off for Lillith. Wandering around alone in the middle of the night didn't seem like the smartest thing the stubborn hunter should be doing.

Her worrying was interrupted by a noise from the other bed. She looked over to hear Dean moan, his arm twitching at his side. He must be dreaming, she thought, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and awkward.

He let out a small cry a few seconds later and she was reminded of the night he had spent under the influence of the poison back in Indiana. He had been delirious and had screamed and called out for Sam all night long. It had been both terrifying and heart-wrenching to watch. Her discomfort became genuine concern when she realized the moans were definitely not the result of a dream about Megan Fox in a hot tub. The sounds were thick with fear and she supposed were more likely due to a nightmare about Hell. She hopped off Sam's bed and moved over to Dean's side, flinching at the pained expression on his sleeping face. He was twitching and repeating the word "No" in a terrified whisper, his lips barely moving.

She gently shook his uninjured shoulder to wake him. "Dean," she said quietly, repeating it a bit louder when he didn't respond. "Dean." She put a firm hand on his chest and gave him a more rigorous shake. "Dean!"

"**NO!**" he screamed suddenly at full volume as his eyes shot open, wild and frantic. With lightning speed he thrust one hand towards her, wrapping it tightly around her throat as the other reached for the blade beneath his pillow. He bolted upright, lifting her by the neck and forcing her backwards onto the bedside table. As he slammed her against the wall behind it, the motel lamp crashed to the floor and its ceramic base smashed with the always-violent sound of glass shattering. Dean's other hand whipped around from behind him to press the blade tightly to Alex's throat.

It all happened so fast that she couldn't stop him. His fingers were curled so tightly around her throat she wouldn't have been able to scream even if the wind hadn't been knocked out of her by the impact against the wall. She kicked her feet out at him but he slammed his knee roughly against her legs, pinning them painfully against the table. Her hands desperately wrapped around the strong arm that was holding the knife, pushing it away with all her might to release the sharp pressure of the blade. She looked into his eyes and saw them staring at her with such rage and hatred that she froze. _This was not Dean_. She stopped struggling and held herself deathly still, terrified of instigating him further and not wanting to give him any reason to move that knife. One twitch of his wrist at this point and he would slice her throat like butter.

"Dean," she pleaded in a barely audible whisper, struggling to voice his name through the pressure on her throat. The wildness was still in his eyes as he held her pinned, but he wasn't attacking farther. "Dean, please. It's me. Please. Don't." The last word came out as little more than a whimper.

After a few panicked seconds that seemed an eternity, she saw a look of recognition creep into his eyes, followed rapidly by one of horror, shock, and shame, in that order. The arm with the knife jerked back, dropping the weapon to the floor and the other released her throat instantly. He moved backwards a few quick, staggering steps, dropping suddenly to a sitting position on the edge of the bed where his head slammed down into his hands, fingers clasping at short strands of dirty blond hair.

Still trying to catch her breath and quell the panic, Alex remained where she was, lying on the bedside table with her back pressed to the wall. He looked up at her for the briefest instant though never actually making eye contact. "I'm sorry," he muttered, the words coming out in a hoarse whisper before he buried his face back in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees and his breath nothing more than a series of ragged gasps.

Gathering her wits about her, she let out a deep breath. Her power of reason slowly returned after being expelled to make room for fear and her mind finally convinced her that the angry, savage person that looked just like Dean was gone and the old Dean, nice Dean, was definitely back.

And he was going to feel damn guilty about scaring her, no doubt.

While wondering how bad Hell must have been to induce terror-ridden dreams so hard to pull himself out of, she sat up and swung her feet onto the floor, being careful not to plant her bare soles on the broken shards of lamp or the clock radio that was upside down on the floor and emitting the muffled opening notes of Metallica's '_Nothing Else Matters_'. She tried to sound as nonchalant as she could when she spoke. "Hey, it's okay. I'm okay."

He looked back up, this time meeting her gaze. "Oh God, Lex, it is so _NOT_ okay." The expression on his face was so wretched and so full of despair and pain that it sent a chill down her spine and her heart skipped a full two beats at the sight of it. The sheer volume and depths of the devastation and hurt that she saw in that one look made her betray every instinct she had and she found herself searching frantically for words of comfort where she normally would have bolted.

She moved swiftly onto the bed on her knees and scooted up next to him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her temple on his shoulder. He didn't turn to face her but relaxed a little into her touch. "It is okay," she whispered soothingly. "It is. Right now, this moment, it is." He stayed where he was, his head still held facing stiffly downwards and his body shuddering slightly.

"I'm okay, you're okay," she continued, trying the effective play her brother had used as comfort on a couple of occasions when she had broken down, succumbing to fear and hopelessness and letting Red-Eyes temporarily break her spirit. "Sam's okay. Bobby's okay. Right here, right now, everything's okay. That's all that matters."

He didn't move for a good thirty seconds but the shuddering in his hunched shoulders subsided. Positioned slightly behind him on the bed, she lifted her head to rest her chin over his shoulder, her face next to his ear. "See," she smiled, hearing the muffled Metallica tune, "even the local DJ agrees with me."

She could only see one corner of his returned smile but felt the force of a small chuckle travel through his chest and shoulders.

"Please tell me you're not gonna start quoting Bon Jovi again," he managed as he turned his head her way, his face now so close to hers she could feel his breath on her neck. Her first instinct was to pull away but she didn't, instead holding his gaze and suddenly very aware of how the energy between them was quickly transforming, spiking even, into something completely different.

"No," she breathed, feeling her heart speeding up at the intensity of his stare. "No Bon Jovi." He straightened up, squaring his shoulders to her while never distancing his face from her mouth. She felt his hand slide gently to the back of her quickly-bruising neck and suddenly he was kissing her. It was just a gentle grazing of lips at first but as she responded, he pulled her closer, his tongue flicking its way along her lower lip, politely asking to be let in.

Every bit of logic and reason within her was screaming at her to back away, not to let this happen. Her self-preservation instinct was begging her not to let herself get any deeper than she already was but her body simply couldn't resist the enticing delight his gentle prodding was promising and she leaned into him, closing her eyes. _Screw logic_. _She wanted this._

'_Everything's okay'_, she had told him. '_Right here, right now, everything's okay_.' As she pressed her body closer and her lips parted willingly, Dean believed her. Right now, everything was okay. Hell, it was more than just okay. He was right where he wanted to be. This felt right - so right. He cast away any fears and doubts and feelings of self-loathing and at the same time felt her last shred of hesitation dissipate also as she breathed a small breath into his mouth and her arms slid around him.

He pulled his legs up onto the bed, folding his feet beneath him so he too was kneeling, both hands cupped behind her neck as the kiss intensified and he leaned over her as she tilted her head back to reach his mouth. He moved his hands down to her hips, gliding them slowly over every inch of curvy temptation he could find along the way and finally sliding them up under her t-shirt, resting them in the small of her waist. As had become a subconscious habit of his, he let them rest there just long enough to make sure he wasn't being presumptuous and give the girl a chance to stop things from progressing any further. Meeting no resistance and, in fact receiving an unmistakable grind of encouragement, he pulled his mouth away from hers long enough to lift the bottom hem of her t-shirt up around her chest. She raised her hands above her head to allow him to get the garment out of their way and he tossed it aside heedlessly, returning his attention to the body he had just uncovered.

He was fairly certain he groaned out loud at the sight that greeted him. So-close-to-perfect breasts swelled up at him, protruding from the top of her Victoria Secret bra, half hidden by her cascading blonde hair. His hands were instinctively drawn to them and he cupped them both, deciding quickly that the left one would be given the honours of being the first to be brought to attention. His fingers pushed the fabric aside, thumb and forefinger going to work as his mouth ducked in to nibble on Alex's neck.

She tipped her head back in apparent approval of all he was doing to her, her breaths quickening as his touch became more needy and forceful. She soaked it up for a moment before she decided she too wanted to feel skin and reached for the hem of his t-shirt. He straightened up for a second, reaching behind him and yanking the fabric up over his head to throw it in a crumpled heap on the floor next to hers.

Alex gave a slight gasp at the sight before her. Not at the well toned, hairless chest, which was oh-so-nice, but at the myriad of fresh cuts, bruises, and burn marks on it. He still had the bruises, slices, and the tazer burn from his time as a captive of the demons, but now there was a whole array of new injuries added to the list. Boot-sized bruises, welts, a collection of bandages up his arm and shoulder that she guessed must be covering the Black Dog's teeth marks, and a large, oddly shaped burn peeking out of one of them. It was not a fresh one but she couldn't help think it almost looked like a hand-print.

"Wow," she breathed, attempting a casual smile. She knew she always hated it when a guy remarked on the visible wounds Red-Eyes had inflicted on her but had been unable to completely disguise her shock at the sheer volume of injuries Dean was sporting. She tried to cover her slip with levity. "At least tell me this was considered a bad week for you," she laughed, softly tracing the line of one of the scars on his chest from the redheaded demon with her finger.

Dean appreciated the humour and gave her a mischievous grin. He reached behind her and undid the clasp to her bra with very practiced ease. As he yanked the lacy obstruction out of his way, he answered her in a husky voice. "Oh, it's not all bad."

She rolled her eyes, leaning in and kissing his neck. "Do lines like that actually work for you?" she teased.

"You tell me," he replied cheekily as he pushed her gently down until she was lying on the bed beneath him. He rocked back on his heels briefly, soaking up the sight for a moment. If there was one thing Dean Winchester always took the time to appreciate, it was a good-looking woman in his bed.

She watched his face as he studied her, surprised at how comfortable she felt lying there, half-naked and exposed. She saw the instant his eyes noticed the two long scars a few inches below her left breast and took in the ugly burn mark on her right side and the assorted smaller scars she usually kept concealed. As those eyes traveled past the ragged scar on her left shoulder, her heart fluttered when she realized they bore no signs of horror, pity, or revulsion like those before him had been unable to hide. Instead he was giving her the look of someone who had earned too many battlescars themselves and could empathize without the pity.

"This is usually the part when I make up a story about being in a bad car accident," she joked softly, still acutely aware of his scrutiny.

He simply smiled, moving his hand to trace a line around the jagged, circular scar on her shoulder. "You've been shot," he said quietly, phrasing it almost as a question with a hint of surprise in his voice. It looked exactly like the one he used to have from Meg-possessed Sam, one of the many Castiel had healed for him.

She glanced down at the ugly scar, suddenly self-conscious again. "No, a screwdriver actually," she said bluntly. "Pretty hideous, huh?"

He glanced at her face, eyebrows raised with mild incredulity before leaning down to plant a series of tender kisses around the scar. "You're beautiful," he said as his mouth moved back up to meet hers. "Even your scars are beautiful."

He was amazingly convincing, not to mention a knee-buckling kisser and within thirty seconds she found herself reaching down between their lip-locked bodies to unbuckle his jeans. That was when she heard the voice outside and her eyes snapped wide in disbelief.

"Okay Bobby, go get your coffee. Give me ten minutes."

Sam. Sam was back. "Oh shit!" she breathed, pushing Dean up and off her and trying to slide her legs out from beneath him. She could hear the jingle of a motel key at the door and moved faster. "Oh shit, oh shit!" Her own brother had never walked in on her in a compromising situation; she sure as heck wasn't going to let Dean's brother have the honours.

Dean groaned and wasn't moving all that quickly to let her out, seemingly not overly bothered by his brother's untimely return. She clambered off the bed and jumped to her feet, still whispering the repeated curse word, "Shit!" as Dean laughed at her panic.

They heard the motel key drop to the ground outside as Alex scrambled to pick up her clothes from the floor. Clutching them to her chest in a heap she turned quickly towards Dean and, taking advantage of the fortuitous extra seconds Sam's fumble had given them, leaned over by planting a fist on the bed and kissed him. It was a short kiss but one that unmistakably screamed 'raincheck' to its recipient. She pulled back and bolted for the bathroom, clicking the door shut with a snap just as Sam emerged through the main door.

Dean sat up on the bed, leaning against the headboard and pulled the covers over his lower half in a half-hazard attempt to hide any 'evidence' of what was going on. After all, his prude of a little brother would no-doubt feel as uncomfortable as Alex would have.

Sam was feeling stressed. Things were getting ugly. He realized just how upset he was at what he and Bobby had discovered when he couldn't even manage to get the key in the lock and then dropped the damn thing trying to get back into his room. He walked in to find Dean sitting on the bed smiling innocently at him. Knowing Dean too well, he was instantly suspicious and he glanced around the room.

"Where's Alex?" he asked, tossing his key and laptop on the table.

"She's, uh in the bathroom," Dean answered almost too casually.

Sam gave his brother a huff of disapproval, taking note of his shirtless status and the hand over his lap. "Dude," he said in an accusing whisper. "Were you…? Did you two...?" It was obvious he was both flustered and aggravated. "What happened to the string on the doorknob?" he demanded finally, still keeping his voice quiet enough so Alex couldn't hear from the bathroom. Living in such constant close quarters, the brothers had established rules... or rather, _Sam_ had established rules... to avoid being caught in awkward moments such as this.

Dean shrugged, not really that bothered at getting caught. "It wasn't planned, dude. Just sorta happened."

Sam glanced at the bedside table and noticed the radio and the smashed lamp on the floor. He shuddered and shook his head, not even wanting to envision what kind of wild sex he had almost walked in on. He was about to leave when the bathroom door opened and Alex emerged, fully dressed and smiling.

"Hey Sam," she said casually, concealing the truth far better than Dean had. "You're back late, I was getting worried."

"Uh, yeah," he managed. "I was trying to find a new hunt."

"Get anything?" Dean asked keenly.

Sam shook his head. "Nah, a few leads is all."

Alex grabbed her keys from the table and slipped her arms into her jacket.

"Hey, you don't have to leave," Dean offered sincerely.

"Thanks, but I'm kinda tired and I'm sure Sam here will be needing some sleep." She gave Dean a sheepish smile before saying goodnight to them both and letting herself out.

Dean threw a pillow at Sam. "Dude, would another half hour really have killed you?"

Sam blushed slightly but rolled his eyes. "It's probably for the better anyway," he said, his expression suddenly grave. "Dean, we need to talk."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Alex was finished her morning run by eight and stopped by the brothers' room shortly afterward, dreading the moment she would have to say goodbye to them. Okay, mostly to Dean, but she would miss both of them. She knocked quietly, not even sure if they were up yet.

Dean answered the door, opening it and giving her a quick smile as he stood aside for her to come in. "Mornin' Alex," he greeted her as she stepped in past him.

She took a few steps inside and tossed her keys on the table before turning to give him a quizzical look. "Alex?" she teased playfully. "What happened to Sunshine?"

"Morning Sunshine," he repeated with a smile that she couldn't help notice didn't reach his eyes. He closed the door and moved over to the far bed, hastily shoving clothes into his duffel in an effort to pack.

Alex sighed, her heart twisting in a disappointed knot. "Dean, you're not getting all weird about last night are you?" she asked. "I mean, you were in a vulnerable moment, maybe I shouldn't have taken advantage like that…"

Dean looked up sharply at that, a genuine grin forming on his face. "You, take advantage of me?" he snorted. "Listen, Lex, the only regret I have about last night is Sam's bad timing."

She studied him for a second to reassure herself he was telling the truth before stepping towards him. "Well, in that case, happy birthday." She tilted her head and rose to her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

Another snort. "You call that a birthday kiss?" he teased, grabbing her hand to stop her as she moved away.

She laughed and leaned in again, this time giving him a real kiss, one he returned at great length. He slanted his mouth over hers and closed his eyes as the kiss deepened, his hands instinctively sliding around her waist. Allowing himself to be consumed by the moment, he almost managed to quell the dread of what was to come, forcing it to the far recesses of his mind as best he could. But when he heard Sam's key in the door, it shot back the foreground and he broke the kiss. He leaned his forehead against hers, closed his eyes and whispered "I'm sorry."

She backed up a step, also hearing the younger Winchester at the door. She wondered how such a sweet guy as Sam could have such crappy timing and at the same time she noticed how much self-doubt and guilt Dean always seemed to carry on his shoulders. Seriously, as if Sam's bad timing could be Dean's fault. "You have nothing to be sorry for," she assured him, turning to greet Sam as he entered.

"Hey Sam," she smiled at the tall hunter before turning back to Dean. "Dean, did you know this guy tried to cheap out on buying you a birthday present?" she grinned. "He tried to say..."

"Lexie."

Dean saw her face freeze when she heard the familiar nickname from behind her, spoken in a voice she hadn't heard in over seven years but obviously recognized instantly. He didn't miss the bolt of fear in those blue eyes as they shot up to meet his before she spun around, instinctively taking a step back towards him.

Her uncle, Dr. Bryce Dennison, was standing there, a few paces into the room. "Lexie," he repeated. "It's really nice to see you."

A shadow was cast over the room then as two large, muscular men stepped briskly over the threshold. Alex eyed them nervously as she took another step back closer to Dean, her hand subconsciously reaching back to reassure her he was still there. "I'm not going with you," she stammered, the only words she had spoken to any family member besides her brother in years.

Dennison sighed, visibly disappointed with her reaction though he didn't seem all that surprised. "Jared, Jensen," he said quietly to the two big men with a nod.

The two goons moved quickly towards Alex and Dean. Dean felt sick to his stomach when she tucked in behind him, looking to him for protection and having blind faith that he would provide it. He swallowed and turned to face her. "Lex, I..."

He didn't get to finish before the two men lunged for her. She ducked farther behind Dean, letting out a small whimper of fear. He closed his eyes and instead of intercepting the orderlies, he stepped out of their way, clenching his jaw and his fists when he heard her surprised cry as they seized her.

She kicked and screamed at them, trying desperately to fight or wriggle her way free of their grasp. They were well trained, however, and well accustomed to restraining agitated patients of the Institute. Despite her well-fought struggle, they managed to get a secure hold on her and began dragging her towards the door.

"Dean!" she screamed in panic. "Dean, help me!" She landed a solid kick to a goon's knee that almost caused him to lose his hold on her arm, which was twisted up behind her, but the other goon's muscled arm was still wrapped firmly around her neck.

"DEAN!"

Dean didn't move. His mouth opened as if to speak but no sound came out. He watched in silent, tortured horror and recognized the instant she realized what he and Sam had done. He was certain he would never forget the look of shock, anguish, and complete betrayal in those eyes.

"Dean," she almost whimpered, her body going limp suddenly in utter devastation. "Why would you do this to me?" she choked out. "Dean?"

"Lex..." he stammered, his heart in a vice. "You'll understand eventually. I didn't want... we had no..."

She only held his gaze for a brief moment as she was dragged towards the door before panic set back in and she cut him off to return to fighting the restraining arms on her. Her hands clamped onto the doorframe as the goons tried to force her through the narrow space and she kicked wildly at them as they pried her fingers off one at a time. Her pleas of help to Dean had turned into general cries of "No!" and "Get off me you bastards!" and the shouting continued all the way to the van, which had been pulled up right outside.

As soon as she was clear of the doorway, Dennison turned to Sam and Dean. "You're doing the right thing," he said calmly.

Dean growled and Sam stepped between them, noticing Dean's clenched fists and tenuous restraint. "We know, Doctor, we know. Just take care of her, okay?" Sam quickly ushered Dennison out and closed the door behind him.

The two brothers stood in silence until the girl's screams were cut off by the ominous slamming shut of the rear van door. Another minute went by before either spoke and it was Sam who managed the first words.

"Dean, man, you know we had to do…"

Dean threw his hand in the air, cutting Sam off. "I don't wanna hear it Sam," he rasped before snatching Alex's keys from the table and storming out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Dean knew it had been unfair of him to snap at Sam but at that moment, he had been fighting to keep tears out of his eyes and had been afraid if he showed any emotion other than anger he would lose that fight. Right now, hiding his feelings and keeping up his façade of emotional stability trumped Sam's feelings.

Five doors down, he passed the Bronco. It had been decided Bobby would take it home and keep it at his place until Josh got out of jail. Not knowing what to do with himself and not wanting to see either Bobby or Sam right now, Dean decided to take it to the gas station and fill it up for the mechanic's long drive.

He hopped in the driver's seat, grudging himself an amused smile at the array of techno-gear that Josh had added to the older model vehicle. He clicked the ignition on to hear the Black Crowes' _Shed a Tear_ _(Seeing Things for the First Time)_ playing loudly through the Brenton's top of the line speakers. _That's Lex, always with the music_, he thought. He let go of the steering wheel and sank his head back on the seat, closing his eyes and forgetting about the gas run.

He couldn't get the look Alex had given him out of his mind. It had been far worse than the one Anna had thrown his way when she had learned of his betrayal in telling Uriel where to find her. Anna had instantly forgiven him, realizing right away the choice he had been forced to make and understanding completely why he had chosen Sam over her.

There would be no such absolution from Alex. She would never understand why he did what he had just done, even if her uncle managed to cure her which, according to Sam, could take months or even years. He wondered if she would even be the same person when she got out, or would the Lex he had known no longer exist? Could all the things about her that he loved be a product of the Persecutory Delusional Disorder, or whatever the fuck Sam had called it, and simply disappear as she was cured?

He ran the evidence Sam had shown him last night through his head, hoping like Hell they had done the right thing because nothing about what had just happened felt right. _Nothing._

At first he had been outraged at the mere suggestion that Dennison had been right when Sam had brought the subject up after interrupting what would have been an otherwise wonderful night, but his brother and Bobby had certainly been convincing.

"_What? Sam, you can't be serious? We're the ones who __don't__ think people are crazy, remember? We know this shit is real!"_

_His brother had remained calm, explaining what he had found. "Look, I know it's not the way things usually turn out in our line of work, but I found this article online…"_

"_Since when does reading crap online make you a qualified shrink?"_

_Sam sighed but continued patiently. "It was an article written by Dennison who, by the way, is an extremely well-respected psychologist."_

"_He's a control-freak who wants to lock her up, Sam! He doesn't know what we know."_

"_Boy!" Bobby had interrupted with an impatient scowl. "Would you just let your brother show you what he's found and you can decide for yourself, okay?"_

_So Sam had explained. The article had been a chapter in one of Dennison's published books and was clearly written about Alex, though the patient in the chapter was given the name 'Jane'. It described in detail a psychological disorder that Sam had further researched and found that it was a very real disorder and could very well describe Alex._

_Dean had argued that they had proof her psychic mojo was real as they had seen it working first hand, to which Sam admitted that the mojo was real; it was just Red-Eyes who wasn't. Dennison believed Alex's inferiority complex and perception of being loved less than Josh had escalated into hurting herself as a means of getting the desired attention from her parents. He believed the trigger that invented the 'demon or monster' she blamed for the self-inflicted injuries was an incident in Alex's youth when she had been alone in the house with her grandmother when the elderly lady had passed away, exposing Alex to death at a very early age. Sam explained to Dean that in all likelihood, her psychic mojo as a young child picking up on all sorts of demons and ghosts was a far more likely trigger and that was what had actually led to her subconscious choice of a shadowy monster as the culprit, but that the end result was the same._

_Dean hadn't given in easily and had argued angrily that Josh had seen Red-Eyes and other hunters had seen him. Of course he was fucking real!_

_But this was where Sam's argument started to have merit. Alex had admitted Josh had never seen Red-Eyes in corporeal form and that he wasn't able to see him in shadow-form. The only thing Josh ever saw was a hurt sister afterwards. The police were thoroughly convinced burglars had killed her parents as there had even been previous home invasions in the area. Alex had also admitted the only hunters that she could remember getting a crack at the demon were Tamara and Isaac and that when that whole thing had gone down, the lights had conveniently gone out before Red-Eyes locked her in the bathroom alone to hurt her. Nobody saw anything. Tamara had since dropped completely off the grid so Bobby was unable to contact her, but Alex had told them that Tamara had called 9-1-1 that night. Sam put in the flash drive Dennison had given him and hit play on a audio file, the recording of that call to Detroit Emergency._

_It was unmistakably Alex's voice, speaking slowly and with an eerie calm. "Hi, my name is Alexis Brenton. I've slit my wrists but have changed my mind. I don't want to die so please send an ambulance to 311 Bingham Street, Apartment 6. Please hurry; I'm bleeding badly and don't have much time."_

_Dean's adamance faltered. "Are you saying she's lying about all this to us? To her own brother?"_

"_No, not at all," Sam explained. "She's not lying because she believes a hundred percent it's real. She doesn't know she's hurting herself. Think Tyler Durden in Fight Club."_

"_Was that Brad Pitt's character or Edward Norton's?"_

"_That's just it. They're the same person."_

"_A Schizo? I don't think so Sam. I've seen some of the scars she's got. No way someone does that to herself and doesn't know it."_

_That's when Sam brought out the undeniable proof; the security footage of Alex at Dennison's facility when she was seventeen in the weeks after her parents' death. The first video clearly showed a teenage Alex alone in a room picking a dropped lighter off the floor, pulling her shirt up and holding it against her right side, slowly burning a two-inch diameter patch of skin, then just sitting still for ten minutes before going to the door and pounding on it loudly. When the orderlies arrived, she cried and screamed that 'he was here' and 'please let her out of here'. The other videos were similar, one showing her placing her arm into the hinge of the metal bed and folding it shut with a shove, crushing her arm, and another of her actually banging her head against the wall until she was bleeding._

_Dean was speechless as he watched them in horrified disbelief, turning to Bobby to help him understand when the last one finished. Bobby's mouth tightened and his eyes grew soft. _

"_Sometimes the demons are in here, son," Bobby said, tapping his temple. "Sometimes they're not the type you can shoot with rock salt or silver bullets." He sighed loudly. "Sometimes the monsters just ain't real."_

Bobby had arranged with a hunter he knew in California to stash hex bags around the perimeter of Dennison's facility, blocking Alex's mojo from any passing demons until she was released. She would be okay. This was the right thing to do.

_Then why did he feel so goddamn wrong about it?_

Dean opened his eyes, deciding to go back inside before the solitude allowed his composure to break and tears to fall. He turned off the Bronco's ignition but as he moved to get out of the SUV, his eyes fell on a piece of leather around the gearstick. He reached for it and the lump in his throat grew bigger when he recognized what it was. He had beaten Josh at a carnival game last year and had given Alex the prize, a cheap, tacky leather bracelet with a few gaudy beads strung on it. _She had kept it all this time._ He cleared his throat and shoved it hastily in his pocket, getting out of the car and slamming the door shut behind him.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Sam watched his brother as surreptitiously as he could while the elder Winchester drove. They were only half an hour out of Liberal on their way to Fairfax, Indiana and Dean looked tired. His shoulders were slumped and his expression stony-faced as he stared intently out the front window.

"I say we need some tunes," Sam suggested, reaching under his seat for the tape box, willing to try anything to get Dean's mind off the unpleasant incident this morning. He lifted the cardboard box onto his lap and let out a huff of surprise at what he found sitting on the top. He held up a roughly rectangular-shaped package wrapped in blue wrapping paper with a small tag taped on the top. Dumping the tape box back on the floor he flipped open the tag. It read _'__Dean__'_.

"Oh shit," he breathed, realizing what it was right away.

"What the Hell is that?" Dean demanded, looking over at Sam like he was holding a wide-eyed alien head in his hands.

"Uh, it's a birthday present, Dean," Sam told him. He was fairly certain he didn't have to elaborate as to who it was from. She must have hidden it in the Impala so they would find it after she had left, likely too uncomfortable and anti-emo to hand it to Dean directly.

Dean actually looked confused. "It's in friggin' wrapping paper."

Sam chuckled, realizing that considering the very few real relationships with women that Dean had had in his life, his brother had probably never received a birthday present from one. In fact, the last real, gift-wrapped present his brother had received was probably the one hanging from the leather chord on his neck this very moment.

"Uh, she's a girl, dude. That's what girls do." Sam remembered both birthdays he had spent with Jessica. She had given him wrapped gifts and had cooked him romantic suppers on both occasions. He shoved the present at Dean, who backed away as if it was a vial of anthrax being offered to him. "Dean, you gotta open it," he chided.

"You open it for me," Dean said warily.

Sam shrugged but tore at the blue paper until a smaller object fell out the top and dropped onto his lap. He reached down and picked it up, grinning in amazement as he realized what it was. "It's ACDC's new album, Black Ice," he exclaimed. "On cassette tape! How the Hell did she manage that? They didn't release this on cassette." Sam gave the tape a closer inspection, noticing the cover was actually printed and cut out. "She made it!" He grinned over at Dean. "She frickin' made it for you."

Seeing his brother's stricken face, Sam realized immediately that the nice gesture and well-intended present were not actually going to make Dean feel any better about what had happened barely an hour ago. He sighed and tossed the tape on the dash. "Maybe we'll listen to it later, huh?"

"Yeah, whatever," Dean said quietly.

Sam turned his attention back to the package still in his hands, which still held a bigger object. "You want me to keep opening?" he asked tentatively.

"Yeah, whatever," Dean repeated.

Sam removed the rest of the wrapping paper to find a worn, paperback copy of Watership Down. Dean snorted. "Now that one's probably more for you, _Fiver_," he said.

Sam sighed and tossed the book on the back seat, doubting Dean would ever read it to discover that Fiver's psychic ability turned out to be a very useful thing that ended up saving the group of rabbits in the story many times over and that the big brother Hazel learned to trust Fiver's mojo. "Look, we did the right thing," he told his brother for at least the twenty-fifth time.

"I know," Dean snapped irritably. "You keep telling yourself that if you need to, Sam. I'm fine with it."

"Why does it seem like you're pissed at me?" Sam demanded. "Did I do something here?"

Dean clenched his jaw, sorry for snapping at Sam again. "No," he admitted, softening his voice. "I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at me, okay. I'm pissed at myself for letting myself fall for a friggin' looney tunes, crazy-on-toast basket case... and for not having fucking clue how to help her other than... what we did."

Dean didn't miss Sam's raised eyebrow and mistook which part of the sentence had caused it. "Yeah, yeah," he waved his hand in the air. "I admit it. I fell for her, okay?" He slumped his shoulders. "I really... really did. And then I stabbed her in the back and betrayed her. I mean, the look on her face..."

Sam remained silent. After twenty-five years with his brother, he knew that once Dean started opening up, the best way to keep him talking was to listen.

"Sammy, women should just stay the Hell away from me."

Sam shrugged. "Could be worse," he offered.

"You think? How?"

"You could have gotten her burned on the ceiling or you could have shot her in the heart with a silver bullet."

Now it was Dean's turn to remain silent for a minute. Here he was feeling sorry for himself when Sam had been through much worse. He looked over at his little brother. "Yeah, I guess us Winchesters just aren't meant to settle down, huh?"

Sam bit his tongue, abandoning his initial instinctive rebuttal as he thought about Dean's words. Any woman he had ever _really_ cared about was dead, all from supernatural causes. The love of John Winchester's life had died at the hands of a demon. As for Dean, any romantic relationships he had let develop past a certain point had ended on a bad note for supernatural reasons, even if the women weren't actually dead. He realized suddenly that Dean had always been right when it came to his opinion on relationships, or his _voiced_ opinion, anyway. '_Keep 'em casual. That's the life of a hunter. The only use we have for a picket fence is stabbing fuglies.' _

That last, tiny shred of hope Sam had always hung on to of having a normal life someday and finding a nice, normal girl to share it with suddenly disappeared. All the stirred memories of Jessica throwing themselves at him recently?... his brain's way of saying good-bye, of letting go.

He glanced back over at Dean. His brother admitting his hurt over Alex was a side of the new Dean, the post-Hell Dean, that would never have shown itself in the old Dean. Dean sharing his feelings meant Dean was scared. His big brother suddenly looked so small, like a frightened child almost, and Sam felt a surge of protectiveness. It was his turn to look after his brother.

"Hey, Dean, you look tired. Mind if I drive for a while?" he offered. "You could catch a little shut-eye. I know you didn't sleep at all last night."

To his surprise, Dean agreed, pulling over quickly and coming around to the passenger side. Sam pulled back onto the highway and within five minutes, his brother's eyes were closed and his breathing had evened out to a sleeping degree. Five minutes after that, Sam took an exit and steered the Impala west. That suspected demonic possession case in Fairfax could wait.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Dean was still sleeping in the shotgun seat when Sam pulled into the graveled rest area on the side of the road. The instant the Impala's throaty purr was silenced as Sam killed the ignition, the elder Winchester stirred, his eyes opening and his arm coming up to run his hand down across his face.

Still blinking sleep away, he surveyed the landscape outside the car. "Where are we?" he croaked. "I don't see a motel."

"We're not in Fairfax yet, Dean."

"No shit," Dean was getting grumpy as he looked around and saw nothing but the road. "We're in the middle of frickin' nowhere."

Sam huffed. "Just get out," he demanded, opening his own door.

Dean groaned his annoyance but got out the other side, coming around the car to stand next to his brother. They were in a gravel rest area on the side of the road. The landscape was pretty flat across the highway and there was a slight incline on their side with a fence at the top about thirty feet up the slope. "What the hell are we doing here Sam?"

Sam was smiling, which only succeeded in aggravating Dean even more, and he started walking up a small path towards the fence, motioning for Dean to come with him. Griping the entire way, Dean grudgingly followed his brother.

Sam stopped at the fence, staring out into the distance, shaking his head in fond disapproval at his brother's very vocal grumblings as he approached behind him.

"There better be one freaking worthy ghost up here to cap, Sammy," he threatened. "Cause if you woke me up so I could watch you take a goddamn leak then I swear, I'm gonna…"

Dean fell silent as he reached his brother's side and saw what lay before them. Just a few feet beyond the fence, the ground fell away in what was by far the most breathtaking view Dean had ever seen. The canyon in front of them stretched for endless miles in each direction, thousands of feet deep, with hundreds of layers and strips of different coloured rocks from top to bottom. "Is it…?" Dean breathed in awe.

"Yep," Sam grinned, his eyes spending more time fixed on his brother than the view before them. "The Grand Canyon."

Dean stood and stared in silence for a long time, dumfounded and awestruck by the sheer vastness of what lay before them. Not to mention the natural wonder and breathtaking beauty of it. He felt so small and yet so uplifted at the same time. Sam leaned over and gave him a light shoulder nudge.

"Happy Birthday, Dean."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC…**_

_See, despite Sam's blood-drinking and drastic shift in attitude from the sweet Sam we saw in earlier seasons, he still loves his brother and wants him to be happy :) _

_Just the epilogue left! BTW, I hope the Alex-twist thing caught everyone by surprise and nobody is too mad at me, lol - let me know either way, I love hearing what you guys thought. The disorder described is in-fact a very real disorder and plausible, though I have no medical training so all my information was obtained online. I am shocked the show hasn't done that storyline yet - I think even X-files had Scully end up right at least once! _

_Alex's part in this saga is not over, with even more twists in the next (and last) installment of this trilogy. Although she doesn't join the hunt with the boys, we get to see exactly what is going on with her and Red-Eyes, real or delusion (no spoilers, lol). When Josh gets out of jail, let's just say he is PISSED, but circumstances force him to work an apocalyptic hunt with the Winchesters as they battle to stop seal number 60 from being broken. I have a lot of fun with Dean and Josh together so it is my fave by far of the three stories. _


	24. Epilogue

_This is the last chapter for this story – sequel will be posted in a few minutes... Thank you for reading and thank-you for all the alerts, faves, and reviews. Sandy-it-is, , DearHart, Sue Pokorny, , Cecile, Stryder2008, Leahelisabeth, Shadowhawq35, and most especially to babyreaper who reviewed every single chapter – thanks to all of you, you are all awesome!_

_To the guest who left that lovely review this morning – I thank you so much. This series was the first time I ever tried writing and is the biggest project I have done. I am trying to write an original fiction (just for my own amusement, no delusions of ever publishing) but it is slow going. I have a few shorter fanfic stories centered on lesser characters (one on Mark Campbell and one on Jo and Ellen Harvelle) and a few one-shots in my other profile (pen-name **cornev**) but my b/f was getting jealous of my laptop so I had to cut back on my writing time, lol and haven't posted anything new in a while. Thanks for the nice comments and the encouragement!_

_Okay, enough rambling. On with the show..._

**Epilogue**

_Tuesday, January 27th, 2009_

_Oceanview Psychiatric Facility, California_

Alex sat on the end of her bed, the only other piece of furniture in the way-too-white room being a plain, wooden end table next to the low bunk. She had asked to share a room with another inmate – or 'resident', as Uncle Bryce insisted on calling them – but her uncle wouldn't hear of it.

She hadn't been cooperative, she admitted to herself, but what would be the point? Her first instinct had been to pretend she knew the Red-eyed Demon wasn't real, play along and convince Uncle Bryce she was cured. He hadn't fallen for it - not even close. It was obvious where Josh had inherited his ability to read people, she thought ruefully. She didn't really have a plan B, so she simply clammed up and stopped talking to him during their pointless sessions. _Fuck him_.

The lights suddenly dimmed. Eleven o'clock. Bedtime for the residents. She rolled her eyes in humiliation at the fact that she had been reduced to being told when she was to go to bed. _'__Residents' my ass._

She pushed off her hospital slippers, glancing down with distaste at the dull, green hospital clothes she had been supplied with upon her arrival here. She was about to pull the covers back and climb into the bed but gasped when the headache started, a sharp, cold pain slowly inching its way through her brain. _Oh God, not already!_ She jumped to her feet and stared wildly around the room, painfully aware of the twisted knot of fear and dread in her stomach.

She had known he would find her. It was only a matter of time, but she had hoped she would be spared for least a week or two. Long enough to possibly pull off some sort of Michael Schofield play and bust out of this hellhole.

He appeared between her and the door. Just her damn luck. The door was locked anyway as she'd already bungled two escape attempts and her uncle wasn't taking any more chances, but she had hoped to make it over there before he materialized so she could pound on it to get somebody's attention.

His shadowy form quickly solidified into a black, gnarl-faced corporeal figure and he smiled in anticipation as he took a step towards her. She backed up as far as she could go, flattening herself against the far wall. She knew from experience there was no point in trying to scream; that would only instigate the torture sooner.

"Well, Dearie," he purred in his deep, gravelly voice. "It's been a while this time."

"Not long enough," she managed to throw at him, trying to physically melt herself into the wall.

"Tsk tsk. You know, if you didn't keep running away, I wouldn't have to make up for lost time when I do eventually find you."

"Last time we met," she rebutted, trying to keep him talking, "you said I was like a rare single malt that you could only bring out on special occasions, remember? I wouldn't want to become some cheap blend." Her words were sarcastic and defiant but her voice quivered, her hands trembled, and tears were already welling in her lower eyelids.

Never one for long, drawn out conversations, Red-Eyes shimmered, slowly returning to his shadow-form. "Now now. You could never be cheap," he said menacingly as the transformation completed itself and he raised his arm towards her to strike.

"No, please," she whimpered. "Not that." Then the pain hit her. She was pressured back against the wall by a crushing, invisible force, the weight on her throat making screaming impossible. As it had so many times before, next came the burning, searing pain that ripped through her entire body like wildfire, sending waves of excruciating agony swirling from head to toe and back again. And again. And again. And again. It was as if the blood in her veins was boiling, burning and scalding her every nerve from within. She silently pleaded for unconsciousness to take her as the seemingly endless torture ravaged her senses in relentless waves but her body refused to cooperate. That would be getting off too easy.

The pressure and the pain subsided as suddenly as it had started and she slumped to the floor at the base of the wall, gasping for air and sobbing strangled pleas of mercy. She looked up past tear-drenched eyelashes to see Red-Eyes smiling, clearly deriving immense enjoyment from her pain. He raised his arm again and she closed her bloodshot eyes, bracing herself for the next round.

_Oh God Dean, how could you do this to me?_

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Stan Whalberg wandered into the security room of the Oceanview Psychiatric Facility a couple of minutes before eleven o'clock with a coffee in his hand, grumpily settling in for his first day back from a week's vacation. He glanced at the five 'twenty-four-seven' monitors, the ones in the rooms of the high-risk patients that needed constant monitoring, and noticed there were now six.

"Hey Pete," he grinned at his coworker, noticing the pretty blonde sitting on the end of the bed in number six. "Who's the new 24-7?"

Pete rolled his eyes. "Don't even think it, Stan. She's Dennison's niece."

Stan whistled. "McDreamy has a family?"

Pete snorted. "It's McSteamy. Dr. Halleran's McDreamy."

"Whatever man. Like I pay any attention to friggin' nurse chatter anyway." He turned back to the blonde's monitor as he settled in his chair. "Boss's niece or not man, I'd tap that." She sat quietly on her bed, seemingly deep in thought. "Even if she is a whack-job."

She slipped out of her slippers and climbed into the single bed, lying on her back and staring blankly at the ceiling. Stan watched her all night. She didn't move.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**Tag to After School Special**_

_Wednesday, January 28th, 2009_

_Fairfax, Indiana_

Sam was packing his duffel, glad to see the last of the Pines, the motel he and Dean had stayed at for the three days it had taken to destroy the ghost of Durk MacGregor. Oddly enough, it was the very same motel they had stayed at for a month back in 1997 when they had attended Truman High. With Dean taking his time in the shower, Sam moved on to packing his brother's duffel too - anything to get out of here sooner.

He huffed disapprovingly at the empty flask he found under Dean's bed. Not that he was surprised, Dean had been drinking pretty much every day since he'd returned from Hell, it was just that he seemed to have slowed the practice while they'd been in…well, while Alex had been around. He stuffed it in the duffel and reached under Dean's pillow for the knife that was, surprisingly, not there. _Why would Dean stop sleeping with his knife?_

Even more surprising was what Sam _did_ find under Dean's pillow. He held up the worn book in his hands, smiling when he saw the page torn out of Busty Asian Beauties that his brother was using as a bookmark. He flipped the book open and noticed penned writing on the inside cover under the title of Watership Down.

There were two inscriptions. Sam felt slightly guilty at invading his brother's privacy but couldn't help but read them. The first inscription looked old and at first Sam figured that it must have been from a previous owner.

_May 1995_

_Lexie,_

_I thought you'd like this book as it has bunnies in it and it's about two siblings looking out for each other. Sound like anyone we know?_

_I Love you sweetheart._

_Dad_

A renewed stab of guilt ran through Sam at the memory of the blonde, always smiling and laughing despite everything. She must have cared more for Dean than Sam had realized if she'd given him something that would clearly have meant a great deal to her. She had admitted she didn't have many things to remind her of her parents so this book must have been a highly cherished belonging.

He winced at another thought. This wasn't going to help Dean with his guilt about what the brothers had done. Sam was completely convinced they had done what was best for the girl but Dean had always been one hundred percent loyal and the look of betrayal Alex had given him must have ripped his brother to shreds. Dean hadn't mentioned her even once since their stop in Arizona at the Grand Canyon. And Dean not talking about something was usually a bad thing.

The next handwritten inscription was to Dean, written in a neat, cursive hand. Sam sat down on the edge of the bed as he read it.

_Dean,_

_I thought this might come in handy for those nights you can't sleep – help keep the monsters at bay. Fiver may be the one with the special abilities but if you ask me, it's clear who the true hero of the story is._

_Happy birthday Hazel, my hero,_

_Lex_

Sam smiled at how well Alex had clearly read Dean and his insecurities and how highly she thought of the elder Winchester. It was too bad she had turned out to be... he hated to use the word crazy... because she just may have been enough to make Dean leave hunting behind and start looking out for his own happiness. They could have been good together.

He heard the bathroom door handle rattle and quickly slid the book into Dean's duffel as his brother emerged from the bathroom, hair still wet but fully dressed. Sam slung both duffels over his shoulder, giving Dean a teasing smile. "Ready to go, Seacrest?"

Dean seemed to be in fairly good spirits as he sank into the front seat of the Impala, probably as glad to get out of Fairfax as Sam was. Sam slipped the AC/DC tape from Alex into the cassette player and got no objection from Dean as _Rock N Roll Train _blared through the speakers.

They were speeding along the highway going in no particular direction when Sam felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He knew it was Ruby since he had everyone else on volumed ringtones but he ignored it. He would wait until they stopped for gas and Dean stepped away for a moment to call her back. He had been calling her for three days with no reply. She could be damn annoying when she wanted to be.

He had questions. Like how often could he drink demon blood and achieve the same effects as drinking Thanin's had? If he drank enough could the extra strength become permanent? What if Dean was in trouble and Sam didn't have a demon around to drink from? How much would he need to drink to kill Lillith?

He thought back to the conversation with his old teacher from Truman High back in '97 that had deeply influenced him at the time. Mr. Wyatt had told him there are only three or four major decisions a person makes that would affect the course of their life and that Sam needed to be sure he was the one to make them. It was that advice that had steered him to Stanford all those years ago.

He looked over at Dean, who was tapping the percussion beat on his steering wheel and nodding his head slightly to the music. The choice Sam had made during the ritual with Thanin was the reason his brother was sitting next to him today. It had been the right choice. And it had been Sam's choice.

Now he was choosing to end this. He would kill Lillith.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**The End.**_

_That's it for this story – Sammy's fall into the darkness da da da duuunh... Hope you enjoyed it. I know it wasn't the happiest of endings but many trilogies end the second book/movie off on a low note for the good guys (the original Star Wars trilogy, the Matrix...) right? They'll fight back in the final installment :)_

_The sequel where Josh gets out of jail is called _**It's Gonna End Bloody**_ and I just posted the first chapter. _


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